


Little and Broken

by TitansRule



Series: Ohana [3]
Category: Once Upon a Time (TV)
Genre: Dimples Queen, Discussion of previous marital abuse, Discussion of previous miscarriages, F/M, Found Family, Outlaw Queen - Freeform, Robin is supportive, Snow/Regina family bonding, missing year, no one hates Regina as much as she does, regina needs a hug, roland is adorable, seriously give this woman a hug, soul mates
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2021-01-02
Updated: 2021-03-06
Packaged: 2021-03-11 03:55:29
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 10
Words: 32,316
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28498653
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/TitansRule/pseuds/TitansRule
Summary: "This is my family. I found it all by myself. It's little and broken, but still good."The curse has swept the residents of Storybrooke back to the Enchanted Forest and Regina has lost the one person who made her heart love again - her son. Over the next year, month by month, she slowly begins to piece her family back together, with the help of her stepdaughter, an adorable little boy, and a very patient outlaw.Can be read alone; notes in the first chapter.
Relationships: Evil Queen | Regina Mills/Robin Hood, Prince Charming | David Nolan/Snow White | Mary Margaret Blanchard
Series: Ohana [3]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1859263
Comments: 10
Kudos: 56





	1. May I

**Author's Note:**

> This is a sequel to Ohana Meets Family but you don't need to have read that to necessarily understand this story. All you really need to know is that Captain Swan didn't happen, Wooden Swan did, and August stayed with Emma and Henry.  
> This is an AU - I don't believe this is what happened in canon (as will become obvious) and the subsequent sequel will skew it further - additionally, I have adjusted certain things to fit the AU. I am aware that Regina was apparently in her 20s when she married - I find that hard to believe, given Cora's determination to marry her off.  
> In season 1, it might have made sense, once they brought in Zelena's backstory, it stopped. There's no way Cora waited nearly a decade after her daughter came of age to enact that plan.  
> On that note, Regina married when she was 17 and her return to the castle does bring up some old memories. There are discussions of previous marital abuse, marital rape, and miscarriages - and Regina's own perception of some of these events are skewed. I will try and remember to note each individual chapter, but if any of these topics are sensitive to you - firstly, my condolences; secondly, please proceed with caution.  
> I did also delve into the politics of the Enchanted Forest a little bit in the first story and I do bring it up in this one. so just to clarify:  
> The Enchanted Forest is split into a number of kingdoms which are as follows -  
> Nolansia - previously ruled by King George and his wife, Queen Sarah; now ruled by Snow and Charming.  
> Misthaven - previously ruled by King Leopold and Queen Eva; now ruled by Regina (maybe or maybe not as Snow's regent)  
> Aurumnia - ruled by King Midas; his daughter is Princess Abigail, who is married to Frederick  
> Crepidia - ruled by King Thomas; his sons are Prince Thomas (married to Ella) and Prince Philip, which brings me neatly on to  
> Sentisrota - previously ruled by King Stefan and Queen Bria Rose; now ruled by Aurora and Philip  
> Sherwood - ruled by King Richard  
> The lowlands - previously ruled by King Xavier, Regina's grandfather; he made Leopold's father his heir rather than cause an outright war between his seven sons and the kingdom was absorbed into Misthaven, much to Cora's disgust.

As the curse swirled around them, Regina kept her eyes fixed on Henry through the rear window of Emma’s car, getting smaller and smaller until …

She blinked.

The yellow bug - and Storybrooke - had disappeared, replaced by the heart-wrenchingly familiar trees of the Enchanted Forest.

To her surprise, they had landed not in Nolansia, where the Charmings’ castle stood, nor in Misthaven where the first curse had begun, but in one of the neighbouring kingdoms, although quite close to Charming’s border, if memory served her.

“Where is everyone?” Red demanded.

“Where they left from I assume,” Regina said coldly, shedding her cloak. She was wearing the same dress she had the night she cast the curse, which had been fine for autumn, but far too warm for spring.

Then again, Snow was wearing a nightgown, and Charming’s shirt was stained with blood, leftover from his battle with her Black Knights the night Emma was born, so she supposed it could be worse.

There was movement at her side, and she automatically handed her cloak off, before pausing. “Didn’t I leave you at the castle that night?”  


“No, Your Majesty. You didn’t instruct me to come along, but I did anyway.”

Ivy Gardiner had been her handmaiden since she was a young girl of sixteen, the last year of Regina’s marriage. Her cursed persona, Holly Plant, had been Regina’s personal assistant for the last 30 years, and had been as loyal in Storybrooke as she had in Misthaven.

Regina managed a small smile. “Well, thank you Ivy.”

Ivy bobbed a curtsy before turning to Red. “Would you like me to take your cloak as well, Miss Lucas?”

Red held hers a little tighter. “Thank you, Ivy, but this one’s special and I need to keep it on. Also, just because we’re not in Storybrooke anymore doesn’t mean you have to revert to servitude.”

“With all due respect, Miss Lucas,” Ivy said, her voice a little cold, “I like my job.”

“Snow!”

There was a woman running towards them, a woman Regina knew from somewhere, but couldn’t quite place.

“Aurora!”

Snow greeted her old friend with a hug and Regina turned away, uninterested in watching the reunion. Bad enough she had to deal with losing Henry; now she had to be reminded of the loss of her oldest (and only) friend.

“Excuse me? Your majesty?”

The softly accented voice caught her attention, and she found herself granting a smile to the elderly carpenter, Archie now back in cricket form on his shoulder. After all, he too had left a child behind, although August would, at least, remember him. “Yes, Geppetto?”  


“My boy … He didn’t come with us,” Geppetto said. “Does that mean …?”  


“He was here the night the curse was cast,” Regina said. “So he would be here. If he’s not, then he’s with Emma and Henry.”

“That’s good,” Geppetto said, attempting a smile. “At least they’re together.” He tilted his head, apparently listening to something. “And do you happen to know what happened to Pongo?”

“I don’t,” Regina admitted. “Given his master is now a cricket, for all I know Pongo’s now a man. I’m sorry,” she found herself adding, to the cricket.

“Regina?” Snow called. “You should be present for this discussion.”

Regina sighed, closing her eyes. “Give me strength.” Turning on her heel, she stalked over to where Snow and Charming were speaking with Aurora and …

Regina stopped, frowning. “Didn’t you get attacked by a wraith?”

“My wife is a rather brilliant, rather unstoppable force,” Phillip said, giving his wife a loving smile.

Snow was beaming, apparently gaining as much strength from the love in the air as Regina was nausea.

“Wonderful,” Regina said dryly.

“Regina,” Snow said warningly. “How have things been since we left? The ogres?”

“Defeated,” Aurora said. “They were destroying our kingdom, and our lives.”

Snow smiled. “Good. And congratulations.”  


Aurora’s eyes went wide. “It’s only been a few weeks. Is it that obvious?”

Snow chuckled, taking her hand. “You’re glowing.”  


Regina rolled her eyes. “Why is she pregnant and I’m the one who’s sick?”

“We have much to celebrate,” Phillip said, ignoring her. “And know that you and your friends are welcome in Sentisrota. If you need anything, we’re at your service.”

David bowed his head. “Thank you, but all we need is horses. And maybe a change of clothes,” he added, glancing down at the bloodstain. “We have our own kingdom, our own castle.”  


Snow nudged him. “Our castle was destroyed in the curse.”  


“Well played, Your Majesty,” Hook said from nearby. “You laid waste to everything.”  


“I’m sorry, who invited you to this discussion?” Regina asked acidly. “What are you even still doing here?”

“Not everything,” Aurora said hastily. “Her castle still stands.”  


“Of course it does,” Regina said. “I protected it.”

Not that she could remember why she bothered. She was sure that the curse would destroy the Enchanted Forest altogether - at least, that was what Rumple had told her.

Then again, Rumple had told her a lot.

“Well, technically,” David said, “the castle doesn’t belong to her. It was Snow’s before she took it.”  


“Well, to be fair,” Regina said, rolling her eyes, “I married into it.”  


“That you did,” Snow said slowly. “And now we’re taking it back. And you are coming with us.”  


Regina raised an eyebrow. “You can’t be serious.”

Snow took three decisive steps until she was right in front of her. “Regina, everyone out there is scared and confused. They need hope. What better way to do that than to return united? I know you don’t like it; you’ll learn to. For our good, and for yours.”  


***

Phillip and Aurora were good enough to lend them three of their best horses for the journey, but most made the trip on foot, using the animals to carry the borrowed supplies instead.

Hook had departed almost immediately, heading for the coast and where he hoped the Jolly Roger would be, and Regina couldn’t care less.

Everyone else had stuck together and were making their way slowly towards Misthaven.

Snow was right, as much as it pained Regina to admit it. She was a queen, first and foremost, and in spite of the ‘Evil’ moniker, the people of Misthaven had flourished under her rule.

Well, everyone who hadn’t sided with Snow White, of course.

So despite the ache in her chest, she kept going, Ivy just about keeping pace with her, personal assistant merging with handmaiden as she used a borrowed quill and parchment to note down the occasional thought Regina came out with.

They had been walking for a few hours, when she said, “I didn’t appreciate the wonder of pens. I don’t suppose you can magic one up, Your Majesty?”

Regina managed a small smile. “Unfortunately they don’t exist in this realm and the connection with the Land Without Magic is broken, so no. I can give you some better walking shoes though.”  


They both looked down at Ivy’s heeled shoes under her dress.

“Thank you,” Ivy said, “but are you not going to change your own, ma’am?”

Regina’s heels were higher, but she shook her head. “I’m used to it.”  


With a soft swirl of magic, Ivy’s heels disappeared, replaced with stout walking boots - hardly appropriate for her dress, but far better for walking.

“Regina,” Snow called.

Regina sighed. “I was changing her shoes, relax.”

Snow frowned. “No - I just wanted to let you know that we’re going to stop for a bit before we cross the border.”

“Dear, we crossed the border ten minutes ago,” Regina said.

Snow was quiet for a few moments. “Oh. Why didn’t I realise that?”  


“Because you’re timing it from your castle,” Regina said, “but we didn’t set off from there. Also I know every inch of Misthaven; you spent most of your bandit days in other kingdoms.”

“You weren’t a bandit though,” Snow said, “so why …”  


“Because a monarch should know what is happening in their kingdom,” Regina said with an impatient roll of her eyes. “That way, they know whether the taxes are being fairly charged, fairly distributed; they know who is suffering and who needs assistance.”  


“I don’t remember Daddy making trips out to the outer villages,” Snow said, still looking confused.

Ivy muttered something under her breath and Regina gave her a sharp look.

“Your father and I ruled in very different ways, Snow. When we get to the castle, I suggest you take some time looking at the historical charters.”

Snow nodded automatically, clearly recognising that the discussion was over. “Anyway, we’re stopping for a few minutes to give everyone a break.”  


“Good.” Regina waited for Snow to return to her husband, before turning to Ivy. “I need a moment alone.”  


“Of course, Your Majesty,” Ivy said. “I apologise for my lack of tact just then.”  


Regina sighed. “You and I both know the kind of man the ‘Good King’ truly was. But he was still her father. Let us break that to her gently, yes?”

Ivy smiled nervously. “If I may, Your Majesty, you still appear to hold a certain amount of affection for Her Highness.”

Regina faltered. “Well, I suppose seven years does mean something. I’ll be back shortly; try not to worry.”

She set off into the trees, avoiding fallen logs and hidden entrances to rabbit burrows as easily as anyone born and raised in the forest.

Daddy had taken her out to places like this when she was little, on days when her mother was away; perhaps it was that that brought the gentle comfort that came with the scent of the trees.

When she was far enough away that she was out of sight, but not so far that she couldn’t hear if something happened, she knelt down, ignoring the inevitable damage to her dress, and began to dig, scraping out a hole in the dirt with a stick.

It was hard going, made only a little easier by the fact that it had clearly rained not too long ago, so the ground was soft.

Finally, she had a pit big enough and she set the stick down in favour of reaching into her own chest and pulling out her blackened heart.

Just the sight of it made her feel slightly sick.

In spite of all her pain, she had never removed her own heart before, needing the anger and the hatred to fuel her quest for revenge and therefore - so she thought - happiness.

But this was different.

This grief was not accompanied by anger.

There was no one she could blame for Henry’s loss - no one that wasn’t already dead - and even if she could …

He may have been a world away, but he was still her son.

He may not have any memory of her, but she was still his mother.

And she was not going to let him down by resorting to old habits to deal with losing him.

For that, however, she needed some time, time without the pain to try and adjust.

She dropped the heart into the pit and began to cover it with earth, just in time to hear footsteps behind her.

“What are you doing?” Snow asked.

“So now you’re following me,” Regina muttered.

“We were worried,” Snow said. “And it looks like we were right to be. What are you burying?”

“Nothing that concerns you,” Regina said bitterly.

“Why does that make me think it does?” Snow asked. “What have you done?”

Regina didn’t answer, too tired to defend herself.

“Is that a heart?!” Snow demanded.

“Go away!” Regina snapped.

Snow sighed. “It’s your heart, isn’t it?”

Regina straightened up, finally looking her stepdaughter in the eye. “I’m not having this conversation with you.”  


“I know you miss Henry,” Snow said gently.

“Not as much as I did when that was still beating in my chest,” Regina retorted, but Snow was right.

_Emma_ was right, damnit - the loss of her heart hadn’t removed her emotions entirely, just dampened them, but anything was better than it had been.

“Regina, this isn’t the answer,” Snow said urgently. “No matter how much pain you may feel, you can’t just bury it in the woods.”  


Regina raised an eyebrow. “Watch me.”  


“You won’t feel better,” Snow said. “You won’t feel anything.”  


Regina laughed bitterly. “That’s the point! I can’t keep walking around, knowing that I’ll never see Henry. That he doesn’t even remember who I am.”  


Snow held her gaze. “I know exactly how you’re feeling. I just said goodbye to my daughter for the second time. Henry too. But I promise you it will get better. _With_ your heart. Right now it might be causing you pain, but I promise you it will let you feel something else soon enough.”

“And what’s that?” Regina asked.

Snow smiled. “The one thing Henry always wanted you to find. Happiness.”

_“Be happy, Mom. Try to be happy.”_  


Regina shook her head. “I can’t be happy without him.”

“Find a way,” Snow said. “For Henry.”

Regina heaved a heavy sigh, already knowing she’d lost the argument. Reluctantly she bent to retrieve her heart and pressed it back into her chest, closing her eyes against the onslaught of renewed grief and pain and misery. “Now let’s get back to our castle.” She turned away, desperate to get away from the hope speech, but Snow hesitated.

“Did you hear that?”

Regina stopped, turning back to face her. “What?”

“There was something there,” Snow said in a hushed voice. “In that bush.”

It was probably a bird. But then Snow had lived in the forest for a time; she wouldn’t get jumpy about something like that. 

Regina strode back to her, automatically putting out an arm to keep her from advancing any further, the way she had when the princess was a child. Her magic brushed through the leaves, searching.

“There’s nothing here. Unless it flew away.”  


Behind her, Snow gasped. “It did!”

Regina’s eyes flew upwards, but the creature in the air was no bird - in fact, she wasn’t sure what it was. 

Whatever it was, however, it was coming for them.

“We need to find cover,” Snow said, grabbing her arm.

“No,” Regina said firmly, a fireball forming in her hand. “I don’t run from monsters. They run from me.”

Her aim was true, but the creature dodged it, swooping down with an awful screech and grabbing Regina by the arm.

“Regina!” Snow screamed, grabbing her other arm, but the creature was strong enough that they were both lifted from the ground.

Its claws dug into her wrist, but the unstable grip, combined with Snow’s extra weight, caused her sleeve to rip and they both tumbled to the ground again.

Snow shook her head. “It’s too fast!”

“I’m open to suggestions,” Regina said, warily watching the creature make another pass.

“Get down!”

It was as good an idea as any and both women threw themselves to the ground as the monster came hurtling towards them.

There was a twang of a bow nearby and the creature screeched, an arrow piercing its side. With another loud cry, it took off into the distance.

Regina stayed where she was for a moment, her newly-returned heart racing with adrenaline.

Footsteps approached and a hand was held out to her. “Milady.”

Still somewhat shaken, Regina looked up. Their rescuer was clearly a woodsman, a quiver slung over his back, a bow in the hand not offered to her. His blue eyes ran over her body, lingering not on her curves or her face, but her arm, still bleeding from the attack.

“You’re injured.”

Completely wrong-footed, Regina retreated to safer ground. “It’s ‘Your Majesty’. And I’m fine.”  


The man raised an eyebrow. “A simple ‘thank you’ would suffice.”

He wasn’t afraid.

He knew damn well who she was, and he wasn’t afraid.

Then again, maybe they had met before; she was sure he felt familiar.

“I didn’t ask for your help,” she said, fully aware that she was being petulant.

She did not need the chiding look Snow gave her, before her stepdaughter took the man’s hand for help to her feet. “Well, I’m grateful for the assistance.”  


The man nodded. “Robin. Robin of Locksley.”  


Of course he was. 

That explained the familiarity. She had seen his face before, after all.

“And these are a few of my Merry Men,” he added, as figures appeared from the trees.

Snow pulled Regina to her feet. “Snow White.”  


Robin gave her a small bow. “At last we meet. You know, there was a time when our faces graced Wanted posters side by side.”

Snow chuckled, but one of the other men was staring at Regina. “If you’re really Snow White, why are you with _her_?”

“Her?!” Regina repeated, brushing down her dress. “Show some respect. Or at least some restraint at the buffet,” she added, casting an eye over the man’s portly figure.  


“You’ll have to excuse Little John,” Robin said coldly. “But before you cursed this land, we spent many a day running from your Black Knights.”  


Regina smirked. “Well, I’m sure you deserved it.” She peered up at the sky, confirming that the beast had definitely gone. “What the hell was that thing?”

“I’ve no idea,” Robin admitted. “We’ve never encountered the likes of it before.”

“Come on, this way,” Snow said. “We need to warn the others. We’re on our way to our castle,” she added to Robin. “If there are things like that out there, we could do with a few extra eyes.”

Robin gave her another bow. “Well, allow us to escort you, Your Highness.”

Snow beamed. “Thank you.”

David chose that moment to come fighting his way through the trees, sword in hand. “Snow? What happened? I heard you scream.”  


“Excellent timing,” Regina said. “Your wife appears to have increased our travelling party. Excuse me.” She left, unwilling to stick around for the (what was sure to be) nauseating display of gratitude that was to follow.

Part of her - deep inside her aching heart, the part that sounded annoyingly like Daddy - told her to turn back, to offer her own thanks to the man who had - let’s face it - saved her life, and then continued to offer his assistance, despite realising exactly who and what she was.

Ivy was speaking to Belle when she returned, but as soon as she saw the injury on Regina’s hand, she was digging through one of the satchels.

“It’s fine, Ivy,” Regina said firmly. “It’s not deep.”  


“It can still get infected,” Ivy said, and of course it could.

Regina had forgotten that fact, so used she had become to the conveniences of modern plumbing and medicine.

So she acquiesced, holding out her hand so Ivy could wrap it tightly.

“What happened?” Belle asked curiously.

“Some kind of flying monster,” Regina said. “I’ve never seen it before, but it was far too fast for me to get a proper look.”

Ivy nudged Belle, and she cleared her throat. “So, um, I was wondering. Why did the curse drop me off with all of you? I was in your castle when the first curse hit.”

“I don’t know,” Regina admitted. She hesitated. “I’m sorry, Belle. About Rumple.”

Belle nodded shakily. “Thank you.” Her eyes focused on something over Regina’s shoulder. “Is that Robin Hood?”  


“And his ‘Merry Men’,” Regina said dryly. “Snow charmed them into escorting us.”

His group appeared to have doubled in size, and Snow had acquired a bow and quiver, as well as a small boy who appeared to be acting as her shadow.

“Roland,” Robin called gently. “Remember, if you can’t see me, I can’t see you.”

“I know, Papa,” the boy called back, and Regina’s heart ached a little.

How many times had she said that to Henry, cautioning him as he ran ahead of her?

“We’re going to move off,” Snow said, approaching Regina. “It’s not safe to linger with those things out there.”  


“Finally, a sensible suggestion,” Regina said, flexing her fingers. “Thank you, Ivy.”  


Ivy bobbed a curtsey and hurried off to see to one of the horses.

Snow frowned. “Was she there when I was?”  


“She became my handmaiden about a year before your father died,” Regina said.

“You mean before you killed him,” Snow said, as the party began to set off again. Her voice was light, but there was a steel beneath it.

Regina sighed. “Don’t start conversations you don’t want to finish, dear.”

“Can I at least ask why?” Snow asked.

“And don’t ask questions when you won’t like the answer,” Regina said.

“But I want the answer,” Snow said.

Regina was silent for a few moments. “When we get back to the castle,” she said finally, “take a look at the charters, as I suggested, and the laws I enacted when I became Queen in deed and not just in name. Then, and only then, if you still want the answer to that question, come and find me, and I will tell you.”

For a second, it looked like her stepdaughter would argue, but then she nodded. “Very well. I’ll wait. She seems quite loyal to you.”

“Who?” Regina asked absently.

“Ivy,” Snow said.

“Oh, yes,” Regina said. “I suppose she is.”

“Let me guess,” Snow said with a sigh. “Later?”  


“Later,” Regina confirmed, looking back over her shoulder.

Why a forest-dwelling outlaw had gotten under her skin, she did not know, nor could she explain how it had happened so quickly.

Oblivious to her attention, Robin attention had been waylaid by Neal, who grasped his arm in greeting.

“Good to see you again, Robin.”  


“You too, Baelfire,” Robin greeted warmly.

Someone cleared their throat behind him. “We’ve come a long way, haven’t we?”

Robin turned, momentarily startled by the woman he saw. “Belle!”

Belle smiled, accepting his exuberant embrace.

“I believe you already know,” he added to Neal. “She once treated a poor thief far better than I deserved.”  


“She does that a lot,” Neal said, giving Belle a fond smile.

“Thank you,” Robin said again, to Belle. “You had no reason to help me.”  


“I had a feeling it wasn’t for yourself,” Belle said. “And I was right, wasn’t I? Did you heal her?”

Robin’s smile faltered. “She lived. Not for much longer, unfortunately, but our son …”

Belle’s eyes travelled to the little boy trotting along the path ahead of them. “I’m sorry you lost her in the end.”

“Ah, but I didn’t lose both of them,” Robin said heavily. “And what of you?” He asked Neal. “What of your journey? Were you able to find your son in Neverland?”  


Neal’s own smile slipped and he cleared his throat. “Yes, thank you.”

Robin watched him for a minute. “I don’t mean to pry, but I don't see the boy.”  


“It’s complicated,” Neal said softly, “but he’s safe. He’s with his mother.”

Up ahead, Regina finally pulled her gaze away from them. She was not close enough to hear what was being said, but Robin and Neal clearly knew each other.

And given that Baelfire had left the Enchanted Forest so long ago, it must have been Robin and his men who helped him get to Neverland after he fell through Tamara’s portal.

That in itself was enough to soften her a little, but she still wasn’t convinced.

“So what do you think of our new friend?” She asked Snow. “Can we trust him? He is a thief.”

Snow smiled. “Think of it from his perspective. How do you think he looks at you?”

“Point taken,” Regina conceded.

Snow glanced at her. “He’s kinda cute, huh?”

_That_ was an understatement, but Regina was not about to tell Snow that, not when she was looking at her with that knowing glint in her eye.

“He smells like forest,” she said sniffily.

Snow’s smile widened and she was clearly about to start digging, when David’s voice rang out ahead of them.

“Look!”

Regina quickened her pace to catch up with him, coming to a halt beside him. 

He was standing at the edge of the forest - except he shouldn’t have been. Her castle was still in the distance, and the trees should have continued for another mile or so. 

Instead, the land between them and the castle was clear of trees and appeared to have taken on a strange kind of glow.

“What happened?” Snow asked.

“That’s exactly what I’m about to find out,” Regina said darkly, taking a few steps forwards. 

She could feel the magic, emanating from the tree line, and she reached out, her fingers brushing against the boundary. “A protection spell. The entire castle’s encircled by it.”

“Didn’t you do this?” David asked. “Undo it.”  


Regina rolled her eyes. “Well, don’t you think if I could, I’d be halfway home by now? No, someone hijacked it.”

“Who?” Snow asked. “Who’s in there?”  


Regina scowled, reaching out to the magic once again. But it wasn’t any kind of magic she’d come across before. It could have been her mother, she supposed, but once she died, her magic would have broken.

Besides, she’d recognise her mother’s magic anywhere.

“I don’t know,” she admitted. “But I’m going to find out whoever’s eating my porridge. Nobody sits in my chair; nobody takes our castle.”

“We’ve got a lot of people looking to us,” David said, glancing back at their companions. “They’re scared and rightfully so. Let’s get them to safety first.”  


“They’ll be safe when whoever’s in there is dead,” Regina said. “There should be at least three villages between here and the castle - do you see them?”

“Rushing in there is a bad plan, Regina,” Snow said. “You know that.”

She did know that. 

But where on earth were they going to plan an attack from? 

They weren’t prepared for a siege.

“I can offer safe harbour in Sherwood Forest,” Robin said, as though he’d read her mind. “It’s not far. I can offer food, shelter, a thick canopy no creature will spy you under.”  


“Do you have weapons?” David asked.

Robin nodded.

“Fine,” Regina said. “Lead the way. But we’re coming back. And whoever did this is going to suffer.”

“Regina, it’s our home,” Snow said firmly. “We’ll make it safe again.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Oh, yes, my OC. Ivy Gardiner (or Holly Plant, under the curse) is Regina's handmaiden. Her loyalty to the Queen will be explained as the story continues, and I envision her looking a bit like Amy Adams.


	2. May II

Reluctantly, Regina turned away from the magical shield, following the outlaws as they led the way towards Misthaven’s borders with Sherwood.

Encroaching on Richard’s kingdom was not going to be the wisest of moves, but Regina was sure that the encampment would be well-hidden and as far away from Richard’s castle as possible.

As they walked, her castle occasionally came into view, and she found herself slowing down, her mind racing.

“You ready to make camp soon, Regina?”  


Regina didn’t answer, still watching a plan forming in her mind’s eye.

Snow sighed. “You’re thinking about Henry, aren’t you?”

“I’m always thinking about Henry,” Regina murmured. “But I was also thinking …” she turned away from the vista, her eye catching David’s as he approached them. “There are tunnels that run _under_ the castle. They may run beneath the spell.”

“Which means we can sneak an army inside,” David finished.

Regina shook her head, thinking about the numerous traps and pitfalls she had placed in said tunnels. “An army would be detected.”

“So how do the tunnels help us?” Snow asked.

“Because it can get me inside,” Regina said. “And if I can get inside, then I can lower the shield. Then you can send in your army.”

And she would have the time - and privacy - to do what she needed to do, with no meddling stepdaughters in her way.

A screech rent the air, and they all looked up sharply.

The creature was back - or maybe it was a new one - either way, it flapped ominously above them. Charming drew his sword, Snow her bow, Neal’s shout sending everyone scattering.

Everyone except one very scared little boy who was now right in the creature’s path.

“Papa!”

Robin fought through the crowd to reach him, but he would never get there in time. Without a thought, Regina rushed forwards, scooping the child into her arms and out of harm’s way.

The creature made another pass and, with Roland cowering behind her, Regina raised a hand. “Not so fast.”

This time, she didn’t bother with a fireball, her magic engulfing the beast until it landed in front of her, much smaller and inanimate - a child’s stuffed animal.

A monkey.

By the time she turned with the monkey in her hands, Roland was safe in his father’s arms, and she gave him a soft smile. “See? Not so scary. And now you have a new toy.”

Roland took the monkey with a dimpled smile that melted her heart just a little bit.

“Thank you,” Robin breathed, holding his son close.

The genuine gratitude in his voice shook her a little, but, in this moment, they were both parents, and she nodded, understanding too well the fear he had just gone through.

“What the hell was that thing?” David asked.

“The same kind of monster that attacked us on our journey here,” Snow said.

“If I didn’t know any better,” Grumpy said, “I’d say it looked an awful lot like a monkey.”

That would explain the shape of Roland’s new toy.

“A monkey with wings?” David asked incredulously.  


“Yes,” Regina said, realisation settling in her mind. “That’s exactly what it was.”

“Okay, you’re acting like that’s normal,” Neal said.

“Actually it is,” Belle said. “But not here. There’s only one land that has creatures like that. I’ve read about it. Oz.”

“Oz?” Snow asked. “That’s a real place?”

Part of Regina wanted to remind Snow that, in the land they’d just come from, no one believed _they_ were real, but thoughts like that led right back to Henry, so she abstained. “The bookworm’s right. It’s quite real. And if our simian friend is any indication, then I think we know exactly who’s taking up residence in our castle. The wicked witch.”

“Are we talking East or West?” Grumpy asked.

“Does it matter?” Snow asked. “Neither one sounds good.”  


Grumpy shrugged. “Well, one you drop a house on, the other you toss a bucket of water at.”

While his wife nodded in concession, David turned back to Regina. “So what exactly are we up against beside green skin and a pointy hat? What did you do to her?”  


Regina gave him a dirty look. “This time, nothing. Never met her.”  


“This isn’t a personal vendetta,” David said flatly. “Shocking. Okay then, Oz aside, we stick to the original plan. Arm up, then attack. Assuming you can get the shield down.”

“You don’t need to worry about me,” Regina said.

“I’m coming with you,” Snow said firmly.

“No, this is a one-woman job,” Regina said, already striding away.

“It’s the Wicked Witch,” Snow protested. “She has flying monkeys - who knows what else.”

Regina rolled her eyes, turning to give Snow her full attention. “I don’t care if the Lollipop Guild is protecting her. I can lower that shield on my own.”

Snow held her gaze for a few minutes, before nodding. “Then we’ll be waiting for you on the other side.”

Regina nodded back, pivoting on her heel to stride off along the boundary of the protection spell, offering up a silent prayer to the gods that the entrance to the tunnels was on her side of the shield.

Finally, she found what she was looking for - a gigantic boulder that blocked the entrance to the passageway, a boulder that could not possibly be moved by anything other than magic.

Well, there were probably some machines in the Land Without Magic that could manage it, but she didn’t have to consider those here.

A pang of grief shot through her heart as she remembered three-year-old Henry’s fascination with all machines like that. She vividly remembered taking him down to the beach, chatting away to him, pointing out the seals swimming off-shore, the crabs scuttling about in the rocks, the birds flying overhead, only for him to finally light up with a “Look Mommy - digger!”

Regina shook her head, pushing the memories back and focusing on the boulder. Her magic glowed in her hands, swirling around the rock and slowly lifting it. She lifted it higher than was necessary, taking the opportunity to stretch out her magic the way that a runner might stretch their muscles.

As she turned to place it out of the way, she caught sight of a flame flickering in the trees.

She had been followed after all.

But, as the figure came closer, she realised it wasn’t Snow White holding the flaming torch.

It was Robin.

“No,” She said firmly.

“No what?” He asked innocently.

“You’re not,” Regina told him.

“I’m not coming along?” Robin asked. “I do believe I am. I can help.”

“I didn’t ask for help,” Regina said.

“Well, that doesn’t mean you won’t need it,” Robin said. “That flying monkey back there wasn’t after my son. It was coming after you.”

Regina couldn’t deny the shiver that ran through her, whether from fear or the intensity in his gaze she didn’t know (and didn’t care to figure out). “What makes you think that?”

“The woods are my home,” Robin said, not arrogantly but with the certainty of a man confident in his abilities. “I’ve seen many a hunter stalking for prey. And that beast was coming for you. Roland just happened to be standing in between.”

Regina raised an eyebrow, unwilling to admit that he was right, or that the same thought had crossed her own mind. “Your point?”

“That’s the second time you’ve been attacked,” Robin said. “The Wicked Witch wants you dead.”  


Regina laughed. “And what? You think you can stop her if she tries to hurt me?”

Robin shrugged. “Maybe. Maybe not. But I have to try. You see, despite the fact that neither of us likes it - I owe you a debt.”

“Why is that?” Regina asked, frowning.

Robin took a step towards her. “Even though that winged beast wasn’t after Roland, he still could have hurt my son. You saved him.”

Regina’s frown deepened. She could make the argument that _she_ had owed _him_ a debt, given that he had saved them from the flying monkey first.

Of course, she wasn’t particularly willing to make that admission.

And she had a feeling that the two of them could stand there arguing the point for hours if she let them.

“Who knew a thief had honour?”  


Robin smirked. “Who knew an evil queen had a soft spot for children?”  


Despite the name, Regina softened a little, hearing his unspoken acknowledgement that saving Roland had been instinctive, not part of some dark plan.

“Don’t get in my way,” she said.

Robin gave her a mock bow. “Oh, I wouldn’t dream of it.”

Hesitating just a second more, Regina turned and stepped down into the tunnel, feeling him follow close behind her.

His torch was useful - although she would never admit that out loud - as it freed her own hands from the need for a fireball.

“So where are we headed?” Robin asked in a low voice.

“There’s a fire in the courtyard that powers her spell,” Regina said. “As long as it burns, the shield will stay up.”  


“Then we simply need to put it out?” Robin asked.

“ _I_ simply need to put it out,” Regina corrected. She had other things to do after all, things that did not need someone watching over her shoulder. “You need to stay out of my way.” She flung out a hand, stopping him from advancing further, her eyes travelling over the white stepping stones on the floor in front of them. “Step in between them.”  


Robin raised the torch, the flickering light reflecting off some particularly nasty blades up ahead. “Oh, a nice little surprise.”  


Regina smirked. “Keeps people like you out.”  


“People like me?” Robin repeated, sounding offended.

“Thieves,” Regina clarified.

“Ah, yes,” Robin said with a chuckle. “True. But we aren’t all bad, you know.”

Regina snorted. “Not when you tell yourself you’re stealing from the rich to give to the poor. I may have done bad things in my life, but at least I own it.”  


“I own my mistakes too,” Robin said, and - oh yes - _that_ was offended. As they slipped past the concealed blades, he caught her arm, not tightly, but firmly enough that she stopped. “I hope you didn’t let me come with you just so you could walk me into one of these traps. Roland’s already lost his mother. I would hate for him to lose his father too.”

Regina was torn between curiosity that this man had apparently already realised that his son’s happiness was a more effective bargaining chip than his own life, and offence that he apparently thought that she was that unimaginative.

The way his eyes bored into hers, threatening to peel back layers of her defences and see right through her, momentarily throwing her off.

Again.

_Good heavens, what is it with this man?_

“Well, then, you should have stayed with the others,” Regina said, her voice coming out less threatening than she’d intended. Pulling her arm out of his grip, she continued leading the way down the tunnel.

His voice continued to echo in her head.

_Roland’s already lost his mother._

Regina was certain that the Merry Men had only been in Misthaven briefly.

There had been a break-in at her castle, which had led to her sending her Black Knights after them, but, under her reign, there had never been any need for outlaws to protect the peasantry.

With the exception of those punished for protecting Snow White - rightly or wrongly - they had led far better lives under her leadership than her husband’s - something she was quite proud of.

No, the Merry Men operated mainly in Sherwood and Nolansia, until George had been deposed.

So she was certain that Roland’s mother - Robin’s wife - had not been one of her victims.

But the thought that she might have been bothered her.

Why, she didn’t know - after all, one life was nothing in the grand scheme of the damage she had done.

“So Roland’s mother,” she said casually. “What happened to her?”

Robin sighed. “After our boy was born, I … I couldn’t protect her. It was my fault.”

Not her then. She was sure if she had been responsible, he wouldn’t have thought twice about telling her.

“Like I said,” he continued, apparently taking her silence for surprise, rather than relief, “I own my mistakes.”  


Regina shook her head, about to make a retort, when light up ahead caught her eye and her blood ran cold. “That’s not possible.”  


“What’s wrong?” Robin asked, almost colliding with her as she stopped dead without warning.

“That door,” Regina whispered. “It’s open.”

“Perhaps you left it unlocked?” Robin suggested.

He was trying to reassure her, and it almost made her smile, except she hadn’t left it unlocked, and what was more …  


“I sealed it with blood magic,” Regina said, before realising that he probably had no idea what that meant. “I’m the only one who can open it.”  


“Clearly not,” Robin said. “Appears the Wicked Witch is a formidable foe.”

That was an understatement.

Slowly Regina moved forwards again, reaching out with her magic to confirm that the room was empty.

It was.

With a sigh, she stepped into the crypt, her footsteps echoing ominously off the walls.

“What exactly was this place?” Robin asked. “Must have been important for you to seal it by blood.”  


“A crypt,” Regina said dryly. “Isn’t it obvious?”  


Robin let out a surprised chuckle. “Yes, what I meant was - who was it built for?”  


This man did not pull his punches.

Regina approached the sarcophagus, running a hand across the top. The answer was Daniel, of course, and then her father. 

She was not going to have that conversation with him.

“My mother. Like you, I’ve lost people I care about.” Regina swallowed round the lump that formed in the back of her throat. “More than I’d like to admit.”  


“Including a child?” Robin asked gently.

Regina looked up sharply, distracted from her reminiscing. “How do you know about that?”

“I saw the way you grabbed Roland back there,” Robin said. “Clearly you have the touch of a mother.”

Roland had been in her arms for all of thirty seconds, if that, and still he knew.

“I do,” Regina conceded softly.

“They’re not with us on this trek,” Robin said. “What happened to them?”  


“He’s not dead, if that’s what you think,” Regina said, her voice breaking. “He’s just … lost to me. Forever.”

She turned away, unwilling to allow him to see the tears that sparkled in her eyes, when he had already seen far too much without even really seeming to look at all.

“If the Wicked Witch is powerful enough to break blood magic,” Robin said, apparently seeing her wish to change the subject away from Henry, “perhaps we should reconsider this plan.”  


“I don’t care how powerful this witch is,” Regina said darkly. “I have to go through with this plan.”

He looked at her for a second longer and she found herself holding her breath, hoping that he could not somehow tell from the set of her shoulders that her plan and his plan were certainly not the same thing.

But he simply nodded, holding out the torch. “I doubt we’ll need this anymore. If you don’t mind, milady?”

“It’s ‘Your Majesty’,” Regina grumbled, but she waved her hand regardless, dousing the flame.

“Normally I’d say ‘ladies first,” Robin said, setting the torch aside, “but …”  


“But given that we’re dealing with a witch and you don’t have an ounce of magic in you,” Regina interrupted, “you’re not really going to do the chivalrously idiotic thing and insist you go first, are you?”  


To her surprise, Robin’s lips twitched in a smirk that was very definitely _not_ attractive.

“Not at all, _Your Majesty_ ,” he said, clearly mocking her for her insistence. “Ladies first.”

Regina sniffed, turning on her heel to enter the rest of the castle, mentally scolding herself. The pain of losing Henry had been dampened somewhat, since Robin had joined her, distracting her with their bickering.

What kind of a mother was she, that a pretty face and a set of dimples had allowed her to forget her grief?

No, her plan had to be carried out. 

So, instead of heading straight for the courtyard, she led the way up to her bedchamber, the same one she had slept in since her first night in the castle, where she had grieved Daniel, where she had planned her revenge, her sanctuary from her husband.

The witch had been here, that much was obvious as soon as she had pushed the doors open. Her closet was open, her dresses disturbed, her dressing table a mess.

“Make yourself useful,” she said sharply. “Keep watch.”  


With any luck, he would take the instruction seriously and pay no attention to what she was doing.

The box at the back of her dressing table had been opened, but its contents undisturbed. The witch had clearly been more interested in her jewellery than anything else.

_The Wicked Witch … reduced to a common thief._

The thought still made Regina smirk, even as she mixed together the carefully gathered ingredients.

“What is that?”

Regina rolled her eyes. Of course he couldn’t follow orders. “Nothing that concerns you.”

He took a few steps towards her, and then there was a noise she couldn’t place. “I won’t ask you again. What is that?”

The threat in his voice sent a frisson down his spine and she glanced over to see that he had strung his bow and had an arrow aimed at her.

Indignation, rather than fear, flooded through her and she automatically reached for her magic, an invisible hand grasping him around the throat. “How dare you threaten me in my own castle?!”

Her magical grip tightened, and he was struggling to breath, gasping with each attempt, but still his aim held true. “Even if you choke the life out of me, this arrow will still leave my bow. And trust me - I never miss. Now what manner of dark potion are you making?”

Regina narrowed her eyes. She was threatening to kill him, and yet he still hadn’t made the shot, despite the fact that he obviously didn’t trust her.

She could let him.

What did it matter, if the end of her pain came with her death, or an eternal sleep?

But then, if she died now, she would definitely never see Henry again.

At least with her plan, there was a chance, however remote.

So she released her hold, causing him to stumble with surprise. “A sleeping curse.”  


Robin lowered his bow. “The kind you used on Snow White.”  


“That spell came from Maleficent,” Regina said. “I finally learned how to make one of my own.”

“This spell,” Robin said. “This is why you wanted to come to the castle.”  


Regina shrugged. “Ingredients like these are hard to come by, especially when you have Snow White breathing down your neck every second of the day.”

“That was your plan?” Robin asked, sounding incredulous. “To use it on the witch?”

Regina laughed. “The witch? I don’t care about her.”

“Then who do you plan to use it on?” Robin asked warily.

“Don’t worry,” Regina said, running a hand over her hair and drawing out a hairpin. “No one you’ll miss. No one anyone will miss,” she added softly, treating the pin with the potion.

“This is about your son, isn’t it?” Robin asked. “I can’t let you do this.”  


Regina raised a hand, halting him in his tracks as he moved towards her. “It’s a good thing you don’t have a say in the matter.”

“I know how you feel, Regina.”

The use of her given name gave her pause and she turned to face him, momentarily stunned by the emotion in his eyes.

“I doubt that,” she said coolly.

“When I lost my wife,” Robin said softly. “I felt that there was no reason to go on. But then I found one. My son.”  


Regina smiled sadly. “That’s where you and I are different. I already lost Henry. I already lost the one thing I care about.”

“That doesn’t mean you won’t find a new reason,” Robin said. “We all get a second chance, Regina. You just have to open your eyes to see it.”

For a second, Regina allowed herself to believe him, to believe in a life where she and Snow ruled together, where she could be the queen she always wanted to be.

Allowed herself to believe that maybe the concern in Robin’s eyes was coming from something else, that maybe in time _he_ could be that second chance.

The thought stopped her cold.

Even if Robin Hood could somehow see past everything she had done in her past to see the woman she wanted to be, she had to admit that he deserved someone far less broken than her.

She’d only just met the man anyway.

“It’s too bad mine will be closed.”

“So that’s it?” Robin asked, sounding … angry? “You just want to give up?”

“This isn’t an end,” Regina said, finding herself trying to reassure him. “It’s an eternal middle. This curse can be broken by the only true love in my life, and the only reason I would even want to wake. My son.”  


“Regina, listen to me,” Robin said urgently, fighting with her spell as she strode past him. “This is a mistake.”  


“Don’t worry,” Regina said. “I’ll keep my word. I’ll lower the protection spell so that Snow and Charming can be victorious.” She rolled her eyes, suddenly feeling very tired, even without the curse. “But then … Then I go to sleep.”

***

A sister.

She had a sister.

How many times as a child had she wished for an older sister - yes, to play with, but also to protect her from their mother’s wrath.

And this whole time, she’d _had_ one.

Zelena had knocked the hairpin from her hands before she’d had a chance to use it, but it hardly mattered now. 

She recognised in her sister the desperate need for vengeance, the kind that no words or reasoning could break through - after all, it had taken her a curse, a new realm, a child, three decades and a bout of torture before she finally conceded that Snow was _not_ at fault for Daniel.

Allowing happiness to numb her grief might feel like a betrayal of her son, but this - this was _not_ happiness, but it was purpose.

And that was all she needed.

She had almost forgotten that she had left Robin stuck to the floor, but there he was.

“You didn’t go through with it?”

Regina almost - almost - faltered in her stride, taken aback once more by the emotion in his voice. “You were right,” she admitted, freeing him with a flick of her fingers. “The sleeping curse wasn’t the answer. As you said, I just needed to find something to live for.”

“And you found it?” Robin asked. “What?”

Regina smiled. “The one thing I haven’t had in a very long time. Someone to destroy.”

His relieved smile wavered just a little. “The witch?”  


“She’s gone,” Regina said, replacing her spell ingredients. “The army will be here momentarily, but they’re really not needed. She took off. Apparently just wanted to mess with my head.”  


“And the villages?” Robin asked. “The people trapped?”  


“I said the villages had disappeared,” Regina said. “Not the villagers. Everyone in those villages were transported to the other realm with the curse. Where they ended up, I don’t know. Belle was here in the castle and she landed with us, so I’m guessing that anyone who left from within the protection spell was returned outside it. They should be fine.”  


“That doesn’t help them with their homes,” Robin said, “or their livelihood.”

Regina sighed. “Then we’ll have to provide them sanctuary until we can figure it out. Now if you don’t mind, it’s been a ridiculously long day, so go and meet them and give them the good news.”

If Robin chafed at being given orders, he didn’t show it, merely nodded and showed himself out.

Alone, Regina heaved another sigh, beginning to remove the rest of the pins from her hair. She had forgotten just how much pressure those elaborate hairstyles put on her.

Curl by curl, her dark locks tumbled down over her shoulders.

Downstairs, she could hear the noise of an army arriving, followed by the joyful sounds of a celebratory homecoming.

She should go down, she knew, and present the ‘united front’ that Snow so wanted them to show.

But she was in no mood to play nice with idiots.

There was a soft, familiar tap at her door, and she smiled despite herself. “Come in, Ivy.”  


Ivy entered, followed by Snow and Charming, and Regina braced herself for a scolding for the sleeping curse.

“She’s gone?” David asked instead.

“Her name’s Zelena,” Regina said, rising to her feet. “Apparently she’s my half-sister and, no, I didn’t know. Apparently it’s my fault that Mother abandoned her and Rumple used me to cast the curse, and I must suffer for it.”

Snow looked worried. “What’s she going to do?”  


“I dread to think,” Regina said. “But she’s gone for now. I’ll renew the protection spell so she can’t reenter.”  


“You haven’t done that already?” David asked.

Regina gave him a dirty look. “Magic takes energy. It took a lot of mine to override the spell. I need a moment to breathe before I can do it.”  


“Right,” David said, having the decency to look sheepish. “Of course.”  


“Are you coming to dinner?” Snow asked. “Granny’s going to see what she can scrounge up from the pantry.”  


“Mrs Harper’s not happy,” Ivy added.

“Well, Mrs Harper should realise that Granny likes feeding people,” Regina said. “The pantry should be stocked; I put a preservation charm before I left. On saying that, the witch seems to have helped herself to at least one of my dresses, so who knows the damage she’s done downstairs. And, no, I’m not coming to dinner. I’ve done a lot of magic today and I’m exhausted.”  


“Of course,” Snow said softly. “We’ll leave you in peace. We’ll see you for breakfast tomorrow?”

Regina nodded. “You will.”  


“Good.” Snow smiled brightly, but it was still tainted with concern. “Goodnight, Regina.”  


“Goodnight dear,” Regina said absently, as the couple left. “Now, Ivy, you know Ruby was right - you don’t have to return to service if you don’t want to.”  


“But I do,” Ivy said firmly. “It’s what I know how to do here; there aren’t opportunities the way there were in Storybrooke. Besides, no offence, Your Majesty, but can you really get out of that dress by yourself?”  


Regina paused, reaching around to check her corset laces. “… No.”  


“I didn’t think so,” Ivy said, rolling up her sleeves. “May I?”  


Regina nodded. “Just loosen it up for me please, and lay out my nightgown. I can take it from here.”  


“Of course,” Ivy said, deftly unlacing the corset. “Would you like a wake-up call tomorrow morning?”  


Regina nodded. “As usual. But I’ll take breakfast with the others.”  


“Of course.” Ivy turned away, beginning to collect the clothes that Zelena had left all over the floor, placing one of the nightgowns on the bed. “Shall I put these through the laundry?”

Regina grimaced. “No, just leave them. I’ll sort them tomorrow with magic. No washing machines here.”

Ivy sighed. “Right. Forgot about that. Is there anything else I can do for you this evening?”  


Regina began to shake her head, then paused. “Actually yes. Can you check that the rooms I used for magic and make sure that the doors are locked, and then just warn our Merry Men that they’re locked for a reason? Especially the child. Something tells me he likes to explore.”

“Of course Your Majesty,” Ivy said. “Should I direct Princess Snow to the archives as well?”

“If she asks,” Regina said stifling a yawn. “That will be all.”  


Ivy nodded with a curtsey. “Good night, ma’am.”  


Once she was gone, Regina pulled the rest of her dress off, not bothering to hang it up. She could sort it with the rest of her - remaining - dresses in the morning. She put on her nightgown and slipped into bed, the telltale headache of magic overuse brewing behind her left eye. 

What she wouldn’t give for an aspirin right now.

With a sigh, she rolled over, trying to get comfortable, but her gaze fell on the nightstand, painfully bereft of the framed picture of herself and Henry that sat on her bedside table in Storybrooke.

A lump formed in her throat once more.

She would never see her son again.

Unless …

She sat up, ignoring the pain in her head, fumbling for the locket around her neck.

The locket itself had travelled with her from Storybrooke, because it had been hers before the curse, but maybe - just maybe - her love for Henry had allowed …

It had.

Opening the locket revealed two photographs, one of Henry when he was a baby, and one at his tenth birthday, with both of them blowing out the candles on his cake.

The last birthday before he learned about the curse and everything fell to pieces around her.

But that didn’t matter right now.

She could, at least, look at her little prince whenever she wanted, even if she would never speak to him or hold him again, or see him grow up into the wonderful man she knew he would become.

That, at least, was more than she had five minutes ago.

She settled down again, clutching the locket to her heart, a soft smile contradicting the tears that slipped down her cheeks.

She drifted off to sleep thinking about her son, but the last stray thought that crept in was that somehow, for some reason, Snow never did bring up that sleeping curse.


	3. June

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Snow learns the truth about her father's marriage to Regina and it's not pretty. TW for discussions of marital abuse, marital rape and miscarriages, as well as Rumple generally fucking with Regina's mind, with some mild Outlaw Queen and Dimples Queen at the end.

Thankfully, the castle was well-stocked, enough for the sudden influx of residents, and enough to buy time for more supplies to be sourced.

Over the next few weeks, messages came in from Thomas and Ella, and Frederick and Abigail, assuring them that they, and their respective subjects, had arrived safely in their kingdoms.

Abigail’s message added that the Lost Boys had remained with their new families and were settling in to life in the Enchanted Kingdom.

With the threat of Zelena not quite diminished, Regina was reluctant to cast out the castle residents that would not have ordinarily belonged there, even if they did consist of former enemies, peasants and, of course, thieves.

The Merry Men had become quite the thorn in her side - loud, obnoxious, and always around when she wanted some peace - even though she had to admit (in private, never aloud, and certainly never to their faces) that they behaved themselves, and took on the role of castle security without fuss or, indeed, even being asked.

Regina was still the Queen of Misthaven and she continued on as she always had, without the undercurrent of war against her stepdaughter, but with a kingdom that had doubled in size, thanks to the refugees from Nolansia.

Officially, however, with war over and the treason charge rescinded, she was technically only Queen Regent; the rightful Queen of Misthaven was Snow White, and Regina waited for the day when her stepdaughter brought that up.

But she never did.

As the days passed, Regina continued to involve her stepdaughter in the day-to-day running of the kingdom, subtly giving her the lessons that she never received growing up, lessons that would help her if she took the throne of Misthaven, or eventually returned to Nolansia.

Slowly, Regina became accustomed to having Snow at her side once more, the way she always had as a child, and on days when she allowed herself space from grieving Henry, she allowed herself to admit that she had - dare she say it - _missed_ the girl.

Even as Regina became more comfortable, Snow became quieter and quieter. 

More than once, Regina caught her staring at her with an unreadable expression, but when pressed, the princess simply shook her head and changed the subject.

Even Charming seemed to be confused by his wife’s behaviour, asking Regina at one point - clearly in jest - if she’d cursed her.

“Seriously, though,” he’d added, when they’d both had a good laugh at each other’s expense, “she hasn’t mentioned anything to you?”  


Of course she hadn’t. If Snow White was going to confide in anyone, it would be her husband, and Regina told him as much.

But then, one day, almost a month after they had arrived back in the Enchanted Forest, Regina received a knock at her bedroom door.

She wasn’t yet dressed, but had dismissed Ivy almost twenty minutes ago, unable to decide what to wear for a day that - unusually - had no meetings and no official business pencilled in. 

And on a day like that, all of her dresses seemed far too extravagant, and the rest of her outfits just seemed …

Evil.

“Who is it?”  


“It’s me,” Snow’s voice answered.

“Come in,” Regina said, turning away from her wardrobe.

Snow slipped through the door, already clad in a simple pink dress, her hair loose around her shoulders, looking much younger than she really was.

Or maybe that was the lack of make-up on her face, or the vulnerability in her eyes that was contributing to that particular look.

Without thinking, Regina ushered her stepdaughter over to the armchairs by the fire - even in summer, the castle was large and draughty. “What’s wrong?”

“I read the charters,” Snow said in a small voice. “Like you said I should.”  


Regina had forgotten that part. She waved her hand, summoning a tea service from the kitchen, and began to pour. “You have questions?”  


“I had loads,” Snow admitted. “I didn’t understand a word of it. Why didn’t I get taught any of that stuff?”

Regina sighed. “Because your father didn’t want it. I actually advocated for it, but then he never wanted me to be your mother.”  


“Yes, he did,” Snow said, frowning. “That’s why he married you.”  


“No, dear, he wanted me to indulge your every whim,” Regina said, no real heat in her voice. “Not do any actual parenting. As far as he was concerned, he was going to have a son to inherit the throne - what did you need to know how to be queen for?”

“I had to get David to help me,” Snow said softly. “And he didn’t know, because he wasn’t raised like this. No one else could understand either except …” She hesitated. “I shouldn’t have been showing anyone else, should I?”

Regina shrugged. “It’s not confidential information, dear. Generally speaking it’s only the council who see it, but it’s up to you who that is anyway.”  


“But it’s _your_ kingdom,” Snow said.

Regina raised an eyebrow, deciding against pointing out the obvious. “So who helped you?”  


“Robin,” Snow said. “I don’t know how he knew.”

Regina took a sip of her tea, thinking. “I don’t know,” she said slowly, “but I wouldn’t be surprised to learn that he had a noble upbringing. He understands court etiquette too well not to.”

“Was that a compliment?” Snow asked, a bit of her old self returning.

“Not a word to the man,” Regina warned, a hint of a smile on her face. “So he helped you?”

Snow nodded, her face falling. “Daddy was starving the kingdom to death. The taxes were so high that people couldn’t eat. And no one was arguing!”

“How could they?” Regina murmured. “That was treason. And you know what the punishment for that is.”  


Snow’s face paled. “He didn’t. He wouldn’t have executed people for that!”  


“No,” Regina said. “But that’s because no one was ever brave enough to try it. Such is the way of it, my dear - I can assure you that other kingdoms were doing the same thing.”  


“They’re just as bad as we were?” Snow asked, aghast.

“Nolansia was,” Regina said, “but you and David fixed that when you took over. Didn’t you?”  


“We didn’t change anything,” Snow whispered. “I didn’t know we needed to. I thought if there were any problems, the people would bring them to us, but … They wouldn’t know we were different, would they?”  


“Of course not,” Regina said with a sigh. “And it’s not your fault. You wouldn’t have known. Sherwood is as bad as Misthaven used to be - obviously. The others … Well, the system is the same, but Midas and Thomas are fair. And I’m sure Phillip and Aurora are as well, now they’re in place.”

“You made it better,” Snow said. “When you became Queen, things became better for everyone except the people helping me. That’s why I didn’t get much help in Misthaven, wasn’t it?”

“I assume so,” Regina said cautiously. 

Snow stared into her teacup. “That first law you passed … Why?”

Regina raised an eyebrow. “Why what?”  


“Why did you pass it?” Snow asked.

“Because it needed to be passed,” Regina said. “Under the old laws, a woman was her husband’s property, which meant that sex was considered a husband’s right. A wife would not have the right to deny him that, for any reason.”  


“No, I understand that,” Snow said. “But … it wouldn’t have even occurred to me that it needed to be passed. I assumed that marital rape was - you know - rape. How did you know it was still legal?”

Regina hesitated. “You have to understand, Snow, that those beliefs go back a long way in our society, and are engrained in many people.”

“That didn’t answer the question,” Snow said.

“I know,” Regina said softly. “I was seventeen when I married your father, Snow, and he was older than _my_ father. The love of my life was dead, and my mother had trapped me within the castle with magic. With that in mind, do you think that any intimacy that occurred between us did so with my consent?”

Snow’s face paled even further. “Did he know?”

“I don’t think you …” Regina began.

“Did he know?!” Snow demanded again. “Did my father know that you had been forced into marriage with him? Did he know that you didn’t want him?”

“He knew,” Regina admitted. “After I banished Mother to Wonderland, I told him about Daniel and about her magic. I didn’t know about Eva then, or I would have told him that as well. I remembered what you’d said, about how your father would have released me from our arrangement if he’d known about Daniel.” She sighed. “He informed me that my parents had agreed to the union. I didn’t have any say in it. I …” she hesitated, eyeing her stepdaughter over the rim of her teacup, but the girl was an adult now. 

And she had asked.

“I went along with it on our wedding night,” she continued softly. “I thought if I could just get past that, we’d be alright. Yes, it would be a loveless marriage, but that didn’t mean I had to be miserable.”  


“But you were,” Snow whispered.

“I spent every day being unfavourably compared to your mother,” Regina said. “And then every night, I’d lie awake, dreading every set of footsteps outside the door, knowing that any minute, I could be summoned like some common whore to do my duty. And, yes, he did know I didn’t want him. After that first night, I fought him every single time.”

“Did it help?” Snow asked, looking anywhere but at Regina’s face. 

“No,” Regina admitted. “But I’d already decided that I was going to kill him one day, when I could find a way of not getting caught. And when I did, I wanted him to know damn well who was behind it and why.”

“Did he hurt you?” Snow asked now, her voice shaking.

Regina sighed heavily. “Every time.”  


“I’m sorry,” Snow whispered. “I ruined your life.”

Regina set her cup down and reached out to take Snow’s as it rattled ominously in its saucer. “Snow …”  


“I ruined your life,” Snow repeated louder, finally looking up and allowing her stepmother to see the tears in her eyes. “I knew it was my fault Daniel was dead, and I knew you weren’t happy but I had no idea he was hurting you, and you wouldn’t have even been here if it wasn’t for me, and I … It’s all my fault, no wonder you wanted me dead …”

To Regina’s surprise, the words sent a jolt of pain through her chest - not guilt, although that was there too - but pain at the thought that her daughter had to live with that knowledge.

And there it was.

She hadn’t thought of Snow as her daughter in a long time, not since Leopold’s death.

But now she reached out automatically, unable to watch the tears that rolled down the girl’s cheeks.

Snow buried into her arms the way she had as a child. “I’m sorry, Mama; I’m so sorry.”

Regina closed her eyes, stroking her hair gently. Snow hadn’t called her that in a long time. “It’s not your fault.”  


“But …”  


“It’s not your fault,” Regina repeated firmly. “You were a child, Snow. Yes, you were naive, and yes you should have listened to me about my mother. But it wasn’t your fault. I can see that now. I was so alone and so miserable that I listened to the wrong people. I let Rumple convince me that Daniel was your fault, and that the only way I would ever be happy was if I got revenge.”

A horrible realisation struck her, one that had her sucking in a breath and tightening her embrace.

“What’s wrong?” Snow asked.

“I let him convince me that I hated you,” Regina whispered. “I let him convince me that I had to hate you because I wasn’t capable of loving you, not with my mother’s blood in me. I let him … Oh, Snow, I’m so _sorry._ ”  


“I don’t understand,” Snow said, pulling back to wipe her eyes.

“I should have realised,” Regina said, feeling miserable. “I had to lock away all good memories of you when your father died, otherwise I would never have managed it. And I did it without thinking, because I’d let him convince me that I hated you. But I never hated you.”  


“You didn’t?” Snow asked.

“Of course not,” Regina whispered. “I loved you; you were my daughter.” She choked out a bitter laugh. “Gods, I’m a terrible mother.”

“No, you’re not,” Snow said.

“I am,” Regina said, shaking her head. “I tried to murder my own daughter because I let a man I knew was bad news convince me that I didn’t love her. My own body murdered four of my sons, and the last was so miserable with me that he ran away to find his real mother.” She closed her eyes. “Henry’s better off without me.”  


“You’re a good mother,” Snow said firmly. “I mean it. You were a wonderful mother to me, until the obvious happened, and if you’re going to blame yourself for trusting Rumplestiltskin … Well, we’ve all made that mistake and you know it. And Henry went through a difficult time, learning about the adoption, and about the curse, and, yes, things were bad for a while. But Henry loved you, Mama.”

Regina smiled sadly. “You haven’t called me that in a long time.”  


Snow smiled back. “Well, maybe it’s time I start again, as long as we ignore the fact that it makes me my own grandson’s stepsister.”

“You never stopped being my stepdaughter, dear,” Regina said, “so that’s always been true, whether either of us like it.”

Snow squeezed her hands. “What did you mean, about the four sons?”  


Regina hesitated. “I had four pregnancies fail when I was married to your father.”  


“You know that’s not your fault,” Snow said. “You’ve lived in Storybrooke too. Unless you know something I don’t.”

Regina shrugged. “Rumple told me it was because of the darkness in me, just like my mother.”  


“Well, your mother carried two children to term,” Snow said. “So clearly that’s ridiculous. And I know you. I know that, no matter how they were conceived, you would have protected those babies. You wouldn’t have risked them.”

“Your father blamed me,” Regina said.

“Well, Daddy was apparently not the man I thought he was,” Snow said. “And he’s a man.”  


“And?” Regina asked, almost amused despite the topic. “Whale’s a man too.”  


Snow grimaced. “I know. But he’s a man with a medical degree. My father was just a man. No uterus, no opinion.”

Regina laughed, unable to help herself. “That’s an excellent point.”

“So is it okay?” Snow asked, a little shyly. “If I call you Mama again, I mean. I don’t want you to feel like I’m trying to, I don’t know, replace Henry or something.”  


“You could never do that,” Regina said, “anymore than he could replace you. And if you’re comfortable calling me that, then of course you can.” She waved her hand to send the tea tray back tot he kitchens. “Now I suggest that you and I head down to breakfast, dear, before your husband starts to worry.”  


Snow chuckled. “Well, you can’t go down like that, Mama. You’re not dressed yet.”

“I know,” Regina said with a grimace. “I can’t figure out what to wear today.”

“Can I have a look?” Snow asked, already halfway to the wardrobe. “What about this one?”

Regina tilted her head, eyeing the dress Snow had pulled out - from where, she didn’t know.

That particular dress had not seen the light of day since before the king died, before her heart turned black and her deeds evil.

“Are you sure?” She asked dubiously. “Will it even suit me anymore?”  


Snow held it out to her. “Try it.”

Regina still wasn’t convinced, but gamely took the dress and slipped it over her head, allowing it to fall as it wished, before checking her reflection.

Soft royal blue cotton clung to her curves, not indecently - far from it, actually, this dress harked back to a time when her _husband_ would insist she practically covered herself from head to toe to prevent leering eyes while simultaneously criticising her for not having the fashion sense of his first wife. 

It was, at least, cool and comfortable in the hot weather, but it still didn’t feel right, like she was wearing a ghost of her former self.

“You look lovely,” Snow said quietly.

“It’s not really me,” Regina said. “Thank you, dear, but … I’m not that girl anymore.”

Snow frowned. “Well, you’re not _that_ woman anymore either,” she said, gesturing to the dresses at the forefront of the wardrobe.

“True,” Regina murmured, wondering if maybe that was part of the reason she had felt so unsettled.

“If you don’t want people to see you as the Evil Queen,” Snow said gently, “you might want to stop pretending to be her. I know it’s your armour and you’re trying to protect yourself, but something’s got to give, Mama.”  


“I know,” Regina admitted. “But this isn’t it. However …” She ran her hands down her sides, eyeing the dress carefully and then gave a little flick of her fingers.

The sleeves became looser, the neckline dropped, and the skirt became less full, a slit appearing up the side to allow her to walk comfortably.

“What do you think?”  


“Lovely,” Snow beamed.

Regina nodded, tying her hair back in a quick braid, before automatically tugging Snow in front of her. “Let me sort yours out, dear; you look like you only just rolled out of bed.”

“I did,” Snow said sheepishly. “I couldn’t sleep last night.”

“Then tell your husband to wear you out,” Regina said frankly.

“Mama!” Snow hissed, before bursting into giggles.

Regina smiled, tucking her arm through her stepdaughter’s. “Come along. It smells like Granny’s scrounged up some kind of breakfast meat.”  


By the time they entered the dining hall, most of the castle inhabitants were there, conversation echoing off the stone walls, but when the two women entered, it seemed that the entire room fell silent.

Regina sniffed. “Honestly, anyone would think we’d turned green overnight.”

Snow shook her head with a fond smile, nudging her over to the buffet table, where Granny was holding court. “Good morning Granny.”  


“Good morning, Snow,” Granny greeted. “Your Majesty.”  


“Good morning,” Regina murmured, taking a plate, even as Ivy appeared by her side. “Yes, Ivy, I’m fine.”

Ivy smirked - something she had almost certainly picked up from her employer, because she certainly hadn’t done that when she started. “Of course, Your Majesty. I was just going to let you know that some of the villagers would quite like to get back to their homes and farms. How far out does the protection spell run?”

Regina hesitated. “Technically, as far as it did before. But I don’t know how close Zelena can get, and something tells me that’s what they’re asking. I’ll look into it.”

She and Snow made their way to the royal table, the latter greeting Charming with a kiss.

“You’d disappeared this morning,” he murmured.

“I needed to talk to Mama,” Snow said just as quietly, making Regina smile a little.

David raised an eyebrow. “We’re back to that, are we?”

“Problem?” Regina asked.

“Not at all,” David said. “I’m glad you two are getting along again. Snow’s missed you.”

“Excuse me, Your Majesty?”

Regina stiffened automatically, turning in her chair to see Robin standing nearby. “Yes?”  


Robin smiled. “My boy has something he’d like to say to you.”  


Only now did Regina notice the little boy clinging to his father’s leg with one hand, and clutching the monkey she’d given him with the other one.

She couldn’t help smiling, slipping off her chair to crouch down so she was at eye level with him. “Do you now?”

Roland nodded shyly. “Thank you for saving me,” he said softly.

“Your Majesty,” Robin prompted in a loud whisper.

“Thank you for saving me, my majesty,” Roland said, taking the prompt literally.

Regina didn’t need to hear the soft squeak Snow made to know that the princess had just about melted; something she was rather guilty of herself.

Robin chuckled. “Roland, that’s not …”

“He’s fine,” Regina said quickly, glancing up at him, and promptly regretting it.

(There really should be a law against eyes being that blue. She should look into it.)

“You’re very welcome, Roland,” she continued. “How’s your monkey?”

“He’s okay,” Roland said. “He has bad dreams sometimes.”

Regina was vaguely aware of Robin’s sudden intake of breath but she ignored him. “I’m sorry to hear that, Roland. Do you give monkey a big hug to make them go away?”

Roland nodded, clutching his monkey a little tighter. “Uh huh. Sometimes they don’t though.”  


“Well, do you wake your papa up then?” Regina asked. “Because something tells me he can help monkey with those dreams as much as he can help you with yours.”

Roland looked up at his father. “You can?”  


“Absolutely,” Robin said, sounding a little stunned. “You and monkey come and wake me up whenever you need, okay?”  


“Okay,” Roland said. “Can I go and play with Uncle John?”

“Go ahead,” Robin said faintly. 

Regina rose to her feet, watching Roland dart off.

“How did you do that?” Robin asked. “He’s not … He’s never mentioned having bad dreams.”  


“He’s not having bad dreams,” Regina said. “Monkey is.”

“Okay, but we both know that’s what he means,” Robin said.

“Children react to trauma in different ways,” Regina said, thinking of Henry and his therapy sessions with Archie, the ones he hadn’t really needed. “Sometimes they find it easier to remove themselves. I didn’t think he was going to go there though. I really was just asking about the monkey.”  


Robin shook his head. “Thank you anyway.”

“That was adorable,” Snow murmured, once Robin was out of earshot.  


“He’s a very cute kid,” Regina conceded.

“My majesty.” Snow shook her head. “Adorable.”


	4. July

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> A certain little boy wiggles his way into Regina's heart - and his father doesn't seem to be far behind.

The number of people in the castle had decreased.

Neal and Belle had left early on, heading for the Dark Castle to grieve in private and, Regina wouldn’t be surprised, to see if there was anything that could be done to bring Rumple back.

But it wasn’t just them.

Once Regina had ensured the protection spell and where the boundary line was, many of the townspeople and villagers had left in favour of their own homes and farms, as long as they were within the spell.

Robin and his men went out on regular patrols, checking up on them, assisting with any repairs that needed to be carried out, and generally just keeping an eye out for flying monkeys.

On this day, however, the patrol appeared to have been delayed in its departure, and Regina didn’t need magic to know why.

Roland had apparently finally become comfortable in the castle and, as is the way with young children, was no longer afraid to make his feelings known.

At four years old (and a half; nobody was allowed to forget the half), Roland was, in Regina’s opinion, exceptionally well-adjusted, considering the fact that he had spent twenty-eight years as a two-year-old, without the benefit of a memory reset every year.

Then again, maybe that was why he had adjusted so well - when Henry was that age, everything felt like ‘forever’ to him.

Maybe, as far as Roland was concerned, it was just a really, really long year.

He was certainly acting like a typical four (and a half) year old today, and Regina made her way down to the entrance hall, following the sound of a screaming child.

She knew a tantrum when she heard one.

When she arrived, Robin was on his knees, trying to reason with his son, who was not having any of it.

As her heels clicked against the stone, he glanced up, looking oddly relieved at her appearance.

“Look at that, Roland. All this noise has interrupted the Queen from her very important work.”

“I’ll thank you not to use me as a parenting threat,” Regina said sharply, kneeling beside him. “Now then, what’s all this noise about?”

Roland sniffled. “P-P-Papa’s l-leaving and I d-don’t want him to.”

“Roland, I have to go,” Robin said gently. “I have a job to do. We need to make sure that everyone’s safe. You need to stay here with Tuck.”  


“I don’t wanna!”

Regina winced, the cry reaching an even higher pitch, her eyes darting to the assigned babysitter, who was already looking exhausted just at the thought. “Roland, are you upset because Papa’s leaving or because you don’t want to stay here?”

“Don’t wanna,” Roland repeated, his little body shaking with sobs.

Regina sighed, shifting to sit on the floor, ignoring the fact that getting up was going to be supremely undignified. “Come here, sweetheart.”

Roland crawled onto her lap and she took a moment to adjust to the familiar weight of a child in her arms.

“There, there,” she cooed, running her fingers through his hair. “Take some breaths for me, Roland. We can’t understand you if you’re crying that hard. Let’s just be calm for a minute, alright?”

Roland sniffled, resting his little head against her heart, and she waited for his breathing to calm, for the little hiccupped sobs to subside.

“That’s better,” she said quietly. “Now are you upset because Papa has to go, or because you don’t want to stay here?”  


“I wanna go with him,” Roland muttered. “I wanna help.”

Regina smiled. That she could cope with. “Well, thank goodness for that.”

Roland looked up at her. “Why?”  


“Well, what your papa is doing is very important,” Regina said, “but there’s an even more important job back here in the castle.”  


“There is?” Roland asked.

Regina nodded. “There is. And I need the very strongest and bravest to help me.”  


“I’m strong and brave, my majesty,” Roland said eagerly.  


“Yes, you are,” Regina said, helping him to his feet. She twirled her fingers and a handkerchief appeared in a puff of purple smoke. “Now let’s dry those tears and let me see that smile.”

Roland beamed at her. “I can help?”

“You can absolutely help,” Regina said. “That is, if Papa doesn’t mind you staying with me today,” she added, suddenly realising that his father might not want his son spending extra time with the Evil Queen.

But, if Robin had any doubts whatsoever, they didn’t show in his face. “Not at all, milady. Thank you.”

Regina got to her feet, pointedly ignoring his offered hand. “It’s no trouble.” As Roland trotted over to say goodbye to his uncles, she lowered her voice. “I’m only doing research at the moment. I’m sure I can come up with some jobs in the library.” She hesitated. “Are you sure you’re okay with leaving your son with the Evil Queen?”  


“Forgive me, milady, but I’m not leaving my son with the Evil Queen,” Robin said. “I’m leaving him with the Queen, who also happens to be a mother. And an excellent one at that, from where I’m standing.”

Regina faltered, taken aback by the compliment. By the time she had recovered herself, Roland was back in her arms and Robin and his men had set out, with the exception of Friar Tuck, who was still observing her like she was some kind of rare bird.

“What job is it, my majesty?” Roland asked.

“I’ll tell you in a minute,” Regina said, with one more glance at his ‘uncle’. “We’ll be in the east library, if you want to check on him.”  


The older man gave her a smile. “No need, Your Majesty. I trust Robin’s judgement. Be good, Roland.”  


“I will,” Roland said, all traces of his earlier tantrum now hidden by dimples he had definitely inherited from his father.

“Right, come on then, young man,” Regina said, carrying him up the stairs.

Thankfully, the library she had been working in was not the one that held her spell-books and grimoires, so there was nothing dangerous.

So she just needed to come up with something for Roland to do that would keep him occupied.

“Am I a knight?” Roland asked as they walked. “Papa says only knights do important jobs for the queen, so am I a knight?”

Regina couldn’t help the way her heart melted, nor the way she held the boy a little tighter. “Of course you are. My littlest knight.”  


“Do I gets a sword and a shield and a armour?” Roland asked excitedly.

Regina chuckled. “Well, I think everything we have is a bit too big.” An idea struck her. “But I tell you what - we can make you a shield.”

Roland gasped. “We can?”

“Absolutely,” Regina said, setting him down as they entered the library. “Just one moment.” She thought for a second about what they could use.

In Storybrooke, she would have given Henry some cardboard to use, but there wasn’t any here in the Enchanted Forest.

Still, they had parchment here - maybe she could create cardboard.

So she found a spare piece of parchment and focused.

“Are you doing magic?” Roland asked in an awed voice.

Regina smiled. “I am. But it’s good magic, I promise.” When she lifted her hands, the parchment was thicker and in the shape of a shield, just big enough for Roland, with a handle on the back. “There.”

“Is that my shield?” Roland asked.

“It is,” Regina said. “But it’s missing something.”

Roland frowned. “It is?”

Regina nodded. “Knights’ shields have a standard on them. Do you know what a standard is?”  


Roland shook his head.

“It’s a picture,” Regina explained. “And different families have different pictures. And different kings and queens have different pictures. Mine is …”  


“A apple tree!” Roland crowed. “Like the one in the dining hall!”

“That’s right,” Regina said with a smile. “So your shield needs a standard.” She wiggled her fingers and some crayons appeared on the table. “Why don’t you draw your own?”

“What about my job?” Roland asked.

“Well, the job of the bravest, strongest knight is to protect the queen,” Regina said, “so you can do that at the same time.”

Roland nodded seriously. “Can I practice first?”

Regina chuckled, getting him some extra parchment. “Of course you can. I’m going to be just here; I need to do a bit of reading to find out more about the witch. If you need me, make sure you tell me, okay? I can’t read minds.”

Roland giggled. “Yes my majesty.”

Regina kissed his forehead - she couldn’t help it.

By lunchtime, Roland’s shield had been decorated with various pictures of arrows and bows and - much to Regina’s amusement - apple trees.

“Because I’m your knight,” he told her seriously, “so it should be there too.”

Regina had agreed, smiling when his stomach grumbled, laughing aloud when he frowned at the offending body part as though it had insulted him.

“Come along, Sir Roland,” Regina said. “I think we might need some lunch and I think Granny served it half an hour ago.”

To Roland’s excitement, rather than the dining hall, Regina took him directly to the kitchens, bypassing the maids to make them both a sandwich.

Tuck poked his head in around then, apologising the intrusion.  


“I remembered to feed him,” Regina said.

“I can see that,” Tuck said. “I just wanted to warn you, he normally takes a nap around mid-afternoon. He’ll tell you he’s not tired.”  


“I’m not tired,” Roland protested.

Regina’s heart clenched. Roland reminded her so much of Henry at this age that it was almost painful. “I’m sure we’ll be fine. Thanks for letting me know.”

“I don’t want to take a nap,” Roland said, whining a little.

“Okay,” Regina said easily. “Then we won’t.”

She had learned with Henry that there were some fights it was better to concede.

Roland would, inevitably, crash mid-afternoon on his own, so arguing with him about it now would be pointless and upsetting.

When they had finished their lunch, Regina took him back up to the library.

“How about a story?” She suggested.

“Not for nap-time?” Roland asked, a little suspiciously.

“Not for nap-time,” Regina said. “I like stories, don’t you?”  


“Uh huh,” Roland said, happier now. “Papa tells good stories.”

“I’m sure he does,” Regina said, scanning the shelves. “I’m not very good at making stories up though, so I thought I’d read one from here.” She found the book she was looking for and sat down on the window seat, Roland scrambling up beside her. “My daddy used to read this book to me.”

“He did?” Roland asked. “Where’s your daddy now?”

Regina hesitated, unsure how to explain death to a child, even one who had lost a parent. “He … went away.”

“Like Mama?” Roland asked. “Papa says she’s in the stars.”  


“Yes,” Regina said, relieved that Roland had answered her question for her. “My daddy’s in the stars too.”  


“Maybe they’re friends,” Roland said, snuggling up to her.

“Maybe,” Regina said softly. And then, to avoid thinking about Daddy any further, she opened the book to her favourite story and began to read.

Like Henry, Roland was a wonderful audience for a story. He looked at the pictures (although they were not quite as whimsical as those in Henry’s picture books), asked her questions, and generally enjoyed himself.

As she read, his weight gradually became heavier and heavier against her side, and his questions became fewer and fewer.

She smiled to herself, glancing at the grandfather clock in the corner of the room.

Nap-time, right on schedule.

“My majesty,” Roland said sleepily. “If Mama’s in the stars, why did Papa say you were Mama?”

Regina froze mid-way through closing the book. “When did he say that, Roland?”

“This morning.” Roland yawned. “He said you were a mother.”

“Oh, he did, didn’t he,” Regina murmured. She hadn’t realised Roland had been close enough to hear them.

At least he hadn’t asked about the Evil Queen.

“I am a mother,” Regina said gently. “But I’m not your mama.”

“Whose mama are you?” Roland asked.

“Well, Princess Snow’s for a start,” Regina said.

Roland giggled, a little more alert again. “No, Princess Snow’s as old as you. You can’t be her mama.”

Regina smiled sadly. “Well, I’m not that much older than Princess Snow, you’re right. But I’m her stepmother. That means that her mama went to live in the stars and I married her father. He wasn’t very kind to me though.”

Roland pulled a face. “That’s sad.”

“And I have a little boy,” Regina said softly. “His name is Henry. But he lived in the other realm with us, and when I did the magic to bring us back here, he had to stay behind because magic wouldn’t let him come.”

“Do you miss him?” Roland asked.

“Very much,” Regina whispered. “He loved story time as well.”

Roland let out another yawn, snuggling a little closer to her. “Can you marry my papa so you can be my mama too?”

Regina’s heart stopped.

Thankfully, in the next second, Roland’s breathing had evened out and he was very clearly fast asleep, so she didn’t need to think about an answer.

When Robin returned twenty minutes later, Regina still had Roland fast asleep in her arms, stroking his hair absently as she gazed out of the window, humming under her breath.

She glanced up as he approached, pressing a needless finger to her lips.

“It’s okay,” Robin said softly. “Once he’s out, he’s out. Thank you.”

Regina shook her head, handing the sleeping boy over to his father. “It was nothing, really. He’s been an angel.”  


“Maybe I left you with the wrong child,” Robin said.

Regina found herself chuckling. “I had moments like that. People would tell me how well-behaved Henry was and I’d think, ‘alright, where were you this morning?’. Everything quiet out there?”

To her concern, Robin hesitated, glancing down at his son.

Clearly, whatever had happened, he didn’t want to say anything in front of Roland, asleep or not.

And, well, she had been meaning to get Robin alone for a discussion.

“Put him down for his nap,” Regina said, “and meet my in my chambers. We can discuss it there.”  


Robin raised an eyebrow. “Your chambers, milady?”

His tone was perfectly measured, but his gaze flickered over her. Brief as his perusal was, it still sent a shot of heat through her, one that startled her into movement.

“Get your mind out of the forest, thief.”

His tone was completely amused as she strode out. “As you wish, milady.”

Thankfully, the time it took Robin to put his son to bed, with his men watching over him, afforded Regina enough time to pull herself together.

She hadn’t responded to a man in that way for years, not since Graham and - if she was honest with herself - even he had needed to do a bit more than a vague innuendo and a brief heated look.

It was just because it had been a while, she told herself, and Robin - loathed though she was to admit it - was a good looking man.

She was only human after all.

She was not surprised when he let himself in.

“Don’t you know how to knock?” Regina asked.

“Well, you did invite me here,” Robin said.

“That’s not the point,” Regina said primly. “I could have been changing.”

He faltered, clearing his throat and she turned away with a smirk.

Two could play at that game.

“I take it,” she continued, “that everything is _not_ quiet out there.”  


“No, it is,” Robin said, recovering himself. “That’s the problem. Four separate families reported missing members. Six people in all. None of them have anything in common with each other. None of them said anything about leaving or going on any kind of trip. They just … vanished.”

The blood froze in Regina’s veins, all thoughts of flirtation gone in an instant. “Did they cross the protective boundary?”  


“I don’t know,” Robin admitted. “If it was the witch, they must have done. We checked the boundary of the spell. It’s definitely still in one piece. And … we did see one of her beasts and it got blasted away by the shield.”  


Regina relaxed a little; she already knew that the protective spell was in tact, but having it confirmed didn’t hurt. “Okay. I assume you reminded them all of the boundary line and to stay away from it?”  


“Actually, we told them that you were going to decrease the perimeter by fifty yards,” Robin said.

Regina raised an eyebrow. “Am I now?”  


Robin shrugged. “Not that I’m aware of. But at least then people will be staying away from the actual edge of the spell.”

It was a smart move, Regina had to admit, one that might buy them time to figure out what Zelena was up to.

But then what did she want with peasants?

“If that’s all, milady, I should probably go and fill in the prince,” Robin said.

“Actually, it’s not all,” Regina said, retrieving the quiver from her balcony. “These are for you.”

“For me,” Robin repeated. “Whatever for?”

“You helped me break into the castle,” Regina said, aware that the reasoning sounded weak, even to her own ears.

Robin’s face told her that he wasn’t convinced. “Don’t get me wrong, I’m very grateful; these are …” he withdrew one of the arrows and hesitated. “Golden.”  


“Obviously,” Regina said dryly. “Not much of a gift otherwise.”  


“You didn’t need my help,” Robin said. “And I was repaying a debt.”

Regina sighed. “It’s a thank you. For your … discretion.”  


“My discretion?” Robin asked.

“I have not had my stepdaughter fretting around me because I almost took my own sleeping curse,” Regina said. “Clearly you didn’t tell her.”  


Robin’s brow creased in confusion. “Well, of course I didn’t tell her, milady. I haven’t told anyone. I doubt you wanted _me_ to see that, it doesn’t take a genius to guess that you don’t want anyone else knowing.”

“Still,” Regina said, crossing her arms and wishing that he would just take them and go. “Thank you.”

Robin shouldered the quiver, still eyeing her curiously. “Anytime, milady. I can assure you that you can always count on my discretion. With or without a thank you.”

Regina nodded, not trusting her voice.

Only when Robin was almost at the door, did she find it again, realising that she should probably warn him …

“Just so you know …” she hesitated.

“Yes?” Robin prompted.

“Roland wanted to know if we could get married so I could be his mama,” Regina said.

Robin raised an eyebrow. “I hope that wasn’t your idea of a proposal, milady.”

Regina rolled her eyes. “Don’t be ridiculous. I just figured I should tell you in case he brings it up again. I don’t want people thinking that I’m trying to … replace her.”

“Replace her?” Robin repeated. “Or replace Henry?”  


Regina glared at him. “Both.”

Robin nodded. “I understand, milady. If he brings it up, I’ll explain the ways of the world to him. You may have noticed that Merry Women are few and far between. Mulan is the only one who has stayed with us for any period of time since Marian, and she’s not exactly the maternal sort, for all her other attributes. Today is the first time in his memory that he’s known what it’s like to have a mother around, even if not his mother. I suppose it’s natural. If it causes you pain …”  


“It doesn’t,” Regina said hastily. It was a lie, of course; the little reminders of Henry hurt more than she wanted to admit.

But the thought of not having those at all, that this precious child would be taken from her as well …

Well, that was unbearable.

“It doesn’t cause me pain,” she repeated, trying to keep her voice steady. “But I don’t want him to be confused.”

“He won’t be,” Robin said. “He knows his mama’s in the stars and that she can’t come back. I’ll speak to him, Your Majesty, but I know my son. He’ll want to stay with you every time we go out now.”

Regina couldn’t help the soft smile that spread across her face. “Well … I certainly won’t argue with him.”


	5. August

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Regina plans to spend Henry's birthday alone, but winds up opening up to Robin instead.

Robin had been right about Roland’s preference for caretaker.

But it wasn’t just when the Merry Men were out on patrol.

Roland became Regina’s almost constant companion, seeking her out at all hours of the day.

The Merry Men, too, had slowly warmed up to Regina, their opinions softened by her obvious affection for their youngest member, and - to her frustration - even her sharp tongue now only served to provoke knowing looks.

Like their leader before them, they seemed to have looked straight through her armour and seen what she was trying to protect - her heart.

What was worse was that it wasn’t _just_ the Merry Men. 

Everyone in the castle seemed to be becoming immune to her temper.

“I don’t understand it,” Regina grumbled one morning. “Why is everyone being so … _nice_ to me?”

“I don’t think they are,” Snow said. “They’re just not treating you like the Evil Queen anymore. _I’m_ being nice to you; you can’t tell me it’s the same thing.”

“No,” Regina conceded, feeling slightly better about that. “But I still don’t understand it.”  


“Mama, weren’t you the one who said that you don’t want people to see the Evil Queen?” Snow asked.

“But I’m still being … difficult,” Regina said.

Snow sighed, giving her a look that made Regina feel like their relationship had just been subverted. “Of course you’re being difficult. You’re grieving. And it’s Henry’s birthday next week. That’s not the same as being evil.”  


“So they’re pitying me,” Regina concluded darkly.

“Not pity,” Snow said patiently. “Sympathy. We all miss Henry. But we also acknowledge that your pain will be far greater than ours.”

“The fact of the matter, Regina,” David added, “is that you have made sure that everyone here is looked after, has food to eat, treatment for injuries, and you’re continuously reaching out to the towns and villages to make sure they’re okay. Whether you like it or not, people are starting to like you.”

“Really?” Regina asked dubiously. “Even you?”  


“Well, you’re my mother-in-law,” David said. “I’m fairly sure I’m obliged not to.”

Regina laughed, unable to help herself, even as Snow scolded her husband. Her laughter sobered up quickly though, when she considered what he had said. “I have to keep checking the towns. We’re missing another five people since the Merry Men found out about the initial disappearances.”  


“Yes,” David said grimly. “But I’m not sure what else we can do.”

He had a point.

They were having council meetings almost daily to brainstorm who might be behind the disappearances - probably Zelena - and how they could stop them - this was the sticking point, as no one could figure out how Zelena was doing it in the first place.

And, of course, they had to consider the possibility that it _wasn’t_ Zelena - and if it wasn’t Zelena, then they had a whole new problem on their hands.

In spite of her complaints, Regina found herself actually enjoying these meetings. She had never had that before; her council had consisted of the few barons she could trust and her black knights, none of whom were exactly gifted intellectually.

There was something stimulating about being able to bounce ideas off of people who weren’t going to agree blindly with everything she said - however much she rolled her eyes and complained.

She dressed up for those meetings, in her old dresses,but she found herself more and more often wearing her hair down, telling herself it softened the look and that her extravagant hairstyles were more pain and more trouble than they were worth.

It was certainly nothing to do with the way Robin’s eyes were drawn to her neckline and the way that her hair tumbled over her cleavage when she moved.

He had far too much honour to ever make a move (and he probably wouldn’t even if he didn’t, she told herself; he was cut from the same cloth as the so-called ‘heroes’ of the story, and likely wouldn’t go near the ‘Evil Queen’ with a ten-foot pole) buthe _wanted_ her, that much was obvious.

So she took her enjoyment where she could, watching him stumble over his words when she leaned forwards.

“Mama?”

Snow was talking to her. 

“Sorry, dear,” Regina said. “I was miles away.”  


Snow smirked. “Thinking about a certain handsome thief?”  


Regina raised an eyebrow. “Careful, Charming; your wife’s looking at other men.”

“Just as long as it’s not Whale,” David muttered.

Snow rolled her eyes. “We were cursed.”  


“What were you saying?” Regina asked, to avoid hearing the argument once again.

Especially since she was fairly sure the two were incapable of _actually_ arguing, and that this repeated bickering was their version of foreplay.

“I was suggesting we have a birthday party next week,” Snow said. “For Henry, I mean.”  


“Henry’s not here,” Regina said flatly.

“I know that,” Snow said gently. “That doesn’t mean we can’t celebrate. But if you’re not okay with it …”  


“You don’t need to treat me like I’m going to break,” Regina said sharply. “You’re a grown woman, Snow; you don’t need my permission to throw a party.”  


“But you’re not going to be there,” Snow said with a sigh, “are you?”  


“You grieve in your way,” Regina said softly, “and let me grieve in mine.”

And so, a week later, Regina found herself sitting in her private garden under her apple tree, the evening air still pleasantly warm around her, while everyone else celebrated in the dining hall.

To be fair, it was obvious that everyone needed a good party, and Regina didn’t begrudge them the opportunity.

However much it bugged her sometimes, that Snow and Charming seemed to have brushed off the fact they had lost their daughter and grandson, she knew better, knew that they would be doing their grieving in private, and trying to make the best of the situation in public.

And Regina could understand that, even respect it, but it wasn’t _her_ way.

Her hand touched her locket, flicking it open to look at her son’s face.

Her little prince was twelve today.

She wondered what he and Emma would be doing to celebrate, but then she didn’t need to.

Emma’s new memories of raising Henry were based on her own, so Emma would be doing exactly what she thought she had always done, what _Regina_ had always done.

She would have woken him that morning with a special birthday breakfast, before he opened his gifts, and then Henry would have had his choice of activity for the day.

Maybe he would have chosen to go to a movie, or out for dinner.

Or - they were in New York now, he had a hundred new things to choose from.

He’d ask for pizza for dinner, that was for sure.

Henry had always wanted to try New York pizza.

Soft footfalls nearby had her closing the locket, unsurprised when Robin took a seat on the bench beside her a few moments later.

“Her Highness says this tree travelled realms with you.”

It wasn’t what she had expected him to say. “Sorry?”

Robin gave her a smile. “Well, I could tell you that you shouldn’t have to be by yourself, but we both know how that conversation will go.”

Regina’s lips quirked in spite of herself. “I’m fine.”

“No, you’re not,” he disagreed.

“I’m …” Regina sighed. “I’m better than I could be. Give me three weeks and I’ll be a proper mess.”

“Why?” Robin asked curiously. “What’s in three weeks?”

Regina smiled sadly. “Henry’s Gotcha Day. The day I adopted him.”  


“Ah.” Robin was silent for a few minutes. “I assume the lad’s birthday was more a public celebration, whereas that was just between the two of you?”

“Yes,” Regina said, surprised. “That’s exactly it.” She sighed. “In any case, I don’t want to talk about it, I’m fine by myself, and they can carry on having their party.”  


“And that’s how I thought the conversation would go,” Robin said. “So what was with the tree?”

Regina glanced at him out of the corner of her eye. He wasn’t looking at her, examining the apple tree above them as though it contained all the secrets of the universe.

“I planted it with my father when I was a child,” she answered.

Robin frowned. “Forgive me - you didn’t grow up here, did you?”  


“No,” Regina admitted. “My grandfather was King Xavier, of the lowlands, and my father was the youngest of seven sons. When Grandfather passed away, rather than risk having his sons fighting wars over succession, he made Leopold’s father his heir, and the kingdom was absorbed into Misthaven. This tree was planted in the grounds of our home, several miles away. The king had it moved here when we married.”  


“That was kind of him,” Robin said cautiously.

Regina laughed bitterly. “Oh, it wasn’t for me. Snow was aware enough to know that it wasn’t a marriage I wanted, so she begged her father to bring me a little piece of home. Had I asked him to bring me an established apple tree, he would have laughed in my face and told me it wasn’t possible. Since she asked, he ordered his men to dig it up, very carefully, and have it replanted here. When I cast the curse, it came with me to Storybrooke.”  


“That was the kingdom where you landed?” Robin asked.

Regina paused, unaware that no one had told Robin and the others what the outcome of the curse was. “Not exactly. The curse took us to the Land Without Magic, creating a town called Storybrooke. Time stood still for twenty-eight years, as it did here, only in Storybrooke, I was the only one awake. Everyone else had fake memories and fake lives.”  


“That must have been very lonely,” Robin murmured.

“It was my own fault,” Regina admitted, fixing her gaze on the leaves above her. “Rumplestiltskin manipulated me into thinking it was my idea, and I let him.”

“I’ve met the Dark One,” Robin said quietly. “I wouldn’t say that avoiding that would be easy.”

“Perhaps,” Regina said quietly.

“I must thank you, actually,” Robin said. “For the curse, I mean.”  


Regina frowned. “Thank me? Whatever for? You and your son were frozen in time for nearly three decades.”  


“Ah, but we weren’t,” Robin said. “We were aware of time passing. Roland was three months old when Marian passed, and I took her loss badly. It took me years before I had fully recovered. Without the curse, Roland would have been a teenager by then - probably bitter and angry about the fact that I hadn’t been present enough. Instead, by the time I pulled my head out of my arse - if you’ll pardon the expression, milady - he was still a child, easily distracted by his uncles and completely oblivious.”

Regina faltered, unsure what to do with this sudden confession. “Yes, but … He was a two-year-old. I’ve _had_ a two-year-old. In that realm, they call them the ‘Terrible Twos’ for a reason.”

Robin chuckled. “Yes, well, if you could have cast it maybe six months earlier when he wasn’t in the tantrum stage, that would have been better, but we can’t have everything now, can we?”  
He was teasing her.

They were talking about a dark curse that Maleficent had told her was too dark to contemplate, a curse she had cast to destroy her stepdaughter, who wasn’t even at fault in the first place - and he was _teasing her_.

A burst of laughter and music floated out from the castle and Robin grinned. “Ah, Alan’s found himself an instrument, I hear.”  


Regina winced. “Can he at least hold a tune?”  


“Well, that depends, milady,” Robin said cheerfully. “At the moment, I’d say certainly. The more ale he drinks … Well, things may get messy.”

Someone laughed, and it was so unfamiliar that it took Regina a few moments to realise that it was her.

Robin got to his feet - maybe he considered his job done now he had elicited a smile, and would head back inside to join the others, and she felt a slight pang of disappointment at the thought.

But he didn’t leave, just held a hand out to her. “May I have this dance, Your Majesty?”

Regina raised an eyebrow. Her immediate instinct was to refuse, except she didn’t want to. It was just a dance, after all, here in the privacy of her garden, and what harm would it do?

Except …

“I don’t actually … know how to dance,” she admitted.

Robin shrugged. “I never paid attention. I’m sure we can manage.”

Regina found herself smiling and accepting his hand to her feet. His other hand settled on her waist, tugging her closer.

“So,” Robin said quietly, as they swayed to the strains of music they could hear, “how does a Queen raised a Princess not learn to dance?”  


“How does an outlaw who lives in the woods have lessons to not pay attention to?” Regina retorted, with no heat in her voice.

Robin chuckled. “Fair enough. You answer mine if I answer yours?”  


“Actually, I already know the answer to mine,” Regina admitted. “You understand court etiquette far too well to have grown up outside of it, and you were the one who explained the tax records to Snow. My guess is that you’re not just _from_ Locksley, you _are_ Locksley. Sir Robert’s runaway son. Right?”

In the dim light, she could see the set of his jaw, feel the way his hand flexed on her hip. “You’re right.”

“I don’t blame you for running,” Regina said softly. “I only ever met your father once, but he reminded me of my mother.”  


“In what way?” Robin asked.

“Appearance is everything, decency is for Other People, and if it doesn’t benefit me, it’s worthless,” Regina said.

Robin snorted. “That, milady, might be the most accurate summary of my father I’ve ever heard.”  


“You were braver than I was,” Regina whispered. “I never did get away.”  


His hold tightened and she stepped closer to him, a shiver running through her at the feeling of his strong body inches away from here, emanating a heat that she wanted to curl into.

“My mother never taught me to dance,” Regina admitted. “I never understood it. She was always talking about marrying me off and yet she never taught me to dance, so balls were out.” She laughed bitterly. “Turns out she’d already figured that out. As soon as I was of age, she killed Queen Eva and then arranged an accident so I’d save Snow and meet the king.”  


“Dear gods,” Robin murmured. “Did you not dance as the Queen?”  


Regina shook her head. “He threw a lot of balls, but he was more interested in dancing with his daughter than with me.”

“And?” Robin asked. “I’m sure a lady as lovely as you didn’t want for dance partners.”

Regina was used to compliments, had never swooned at flattery, but Robin was different - he wasn’t spinning a line, or trying to get anything from her, that much was clear.

He was just stating what he considered the obvious.

“Oh, but I was the Queen,” she said lightly. “And of course, it would be remiss of me to dance with any man without my lord and master’s permission.”

Robin scowled. “Let me guess, he never granted it.”

“Of course not,” Regina said. “He didn’t want me, but the gods forbid anyone else got anywhere near me.”

“I’ve never had any patience with kings,” Robin said darkly. “Richard ensured that. But that’s just … You deserved better.”

Something caught in Regina’s throat and her fingers contracted around his without her consent. There was a hard note to his voice, a protective thread that had her wondering what he would do if she told him everything.

But no - it was bad enough that Snow knew what she did, bad enough that Ivy had cleaned her up enough that the horror still echoed in her eyes sometimes - this man was not her protector or her therapist or … hers, for that matter.

This was just a dance.

“What about queens?” She asked lightly, trying to bring the mood up. “If you’ve never had any patience with kings, you seem to do alright with queens.”

Robin gave a roguish grin that definitely did not make her heart flutter. “Well, that’s because I know your secret, Your Majesty.”

Regina’s brow creased in confusion. He couldn’t be talking about the sleeping curse. “And what’s that?”

“That despite what people said,” Robin said, “you were a good queen.”

“You know what I did,” Regina said quietly.

“I do,” Robin conceded. “And some of those deeds were evil, certainly. But an evil act does not make someone evil. And for all of your evil acts, you treated most of your subjects with far more humanity than the so-called Good King had.”

Regina attempted a smile, relieved when it came naturally and didn’t show how shaken she was - she hoped. “Oh? Then why did you break into my castle?”

Robin raised an eyebrow. “You don’t know?”

“No,” Regina admitted. “I knew you’d been in, but I could never figure out what you’d taken, and it just about drove me mad.”

She expected him to laugh, but he didn’t, looking thoughtful instead.

“It doesn’t matter anymore.”

“You’re not going to tell me,” Regina guessed. “Do you even remember?”  


“Oh, I remember,” Robin said with a smile. “I can assure you, milady, what I took had absolutely no value to you whatsoever.”  


“But it did to you?” Regina asked.

“To me, it was worth more than all the jewels in your kingdom,” Robin said.

“Then I’m glad you took it,” Regina said. She was close enough to him now that his scent enveloped her along with his arms; she could almost feel his breath on her face.

If she just tilted her head a fraction, she would be kissing him.

It was that thought that had her pulling away. 

She couldn’t - wouldn’t - embarrass herself like that.

He was being kind to her, kindness that currently soothed her pain like a balm, but could just as well rub her the wrong way by tomorrow.

He had just acknowledged that it took him years to mourn his wife, and she knew better than anyone that that pain never went away - he probably didn’t want anyone else, and even if he did, he could do far better than her.

“Are you alright?” Robin asked.

“Fine,” Regina said, a little shortly. “I just … It’s been a long day. I think I’ll turn in.”  


“Of course,” Robin said, readily stepping back. “I hope today wasn’t too difficult.”  


“It wasn’t,” Regina admitted. “Thank you.”

He was still holding her hand, she realised, but before she could let go, he bowed formally, lifting her hand to press a kiss to her knuckles. “It was my pleasure, Your Majesty. Goodnight.”

Regina murmured a response, taking herself to her chamber with a swirl of purple smoke, just about staggering over to her dressing table.

She was _blushing_.

Regina hadn’t even realised she was capable of blushing anymore, but there it was, a pink flush to her cheeks, her hand tingling where his lips had touched.

She was being ridiculous, getting all flustered over a man she would never have.

But this was a feeling other than guilt, than grief, than pain, this giddy feeling that reminded her of being a young girl, sneaking out to meet the stableboy behind Mother’s back.

Masochistic it might be, but she was going to let this feeling linger, allowing herself to bask in this warm glow for as long as it lasted, even if reality was going to hit her even harder tomorrow morning.


	6. September

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In which Roland falls ill and Regina gets a visitor.

Summer was starting to die away, the days slowly becoming shorter, the warm evenings slowly becoming cooler.

The trees in the forests of Misthaven were mostly evergreen, and Regina found herself missing not just Henry but the beautiful displays of red and orange played out by the trees of Storybrooke every fall.

She also found herself missing the central heating of her mansion. 

Summer in the castle hadn’t been too bad - its stone walls and large draughty rooms meant that it stayed relatively cool, even when the outside temperature soared.

But she hadn’t forgotten winters in the Enchanted Forest, nor the way that her chambers never really warmed up, her balcony open to the elements.

Even now, with fall only just beginning, there was already a chill in the air.

And still, she had no idea what her sister was planning, what had happened to the missing villagers, or even if the two were related.

The castle was now playing host to refugees, as more and more of the villagers and townspeople, afraid for their safety, came to request sanctuary, which, of course, had been granted.

Most had set up camps in the courtyard, still within the protective walls, but that would not be practical as a long-term solution.

More and more, Regina ended up in the western library with the magical tomes, something she tried to avoid - partly because the more she was around magic, the more nervous people were, and partly because she had a little shadow.

For the last few days, however, the Merry Men had not gone out on their patrols, and today Roland was supposed to be with Tuck.

So Regina took the opportunity to see if she could find any kind of spell that would allow Zelena to make people vanish without a trace and without any kind of struggle - at least, not that anyone had seen. 

Of course, the easiest explanation was that all of the missing people’s families were wrong about their loved ones staying away from the boundary line and that they had been attacked or taken outside the protection of Regina’s magic.

But Regina wasn’t taking any chances.

She was so absorbed in her reading that she didn’t notice the door creaking open, or the little footsteps on the floorboards.

She did, however, notice the little hand on her knee, something that made her smile, even if it did make her jump.

“Roland! Where’s Uncle Tuck?”  


“He’s napping,” Roland mumbled, scrambling up on to her lap. As always, he had his monkey tucked under one arm, so she closed her book and wrapped her arms around him to help him balance. “Gina, I don’t feel so good.”

Regina frowned. She had told Roland some weeks ago that he could call her by her given name (even if his ‘my majesty’ was adorable), but he very rarely did so straight away without being reminded. “You don’t? What’s wrong, my little knight?”  


“My head hurts,” Roland said, a slight whimper in his voice, “and my tummy hurts, and I’m cold.”

Regina grimaced. He might have felt cold, but his skin was hot against her touch, too hot. “Well, that doesn’t sound fun. Why don’t we go and see if Granny has any soup?”  


Roland shook his head. “Not hungry. My tummy …” He shuddered, and then he suddenly deposited his breakfast all down her front, before promptly bursting into tears. “I’m sorry!”

“Ssh, it’s alright,” Regina cooed, cleaning herself, Roland and the monkey with a wave of her hand. “It’s alright, Roland. You’re not very well, sweetheart; let’s get you into bed, alright?” She stood up, keeping him wrapped in her arms, his little body still shaking with sobs.

She made her way down to the room he shared with his father and where Tuck was still snoozing in one of the chairs.

The old friar was the oldest member of the Merry Men, the reason why he stayed behind while they went out on patrol, and she didn’t begrudge him the nap.

Still, as she passed, she nudged his shoulder gently. “Friar? I need you to wake up.”  


The man jolted awake immediately, blinking the fatigue from his eyes. “Your Majesty?”  


“Roland’s sick,” Regina said softly, putting the boy in his bed.

“Gina, I’m cold,” Roland repeated with a sniffle.

“I know, sweetheart,” Regina said, tucking him in. “It’s only the fever making you feel like that, handsome; you’ll be alright.”  


“He’s got a fever,” Tuck repeated, alarm in his voice.

Regina winced. Of course, a fever was far worse here than back in Storybrooke - how had she forgotten?

“Is there anything you can do?” He continued.

“Not really,” Regina said honestly. “If I was capable of light magic then maybe, but I’m not. And without the fairies here, all we can do is wait it out. There are a few things we can do though; I’ll just need to get some things from the kitchens …”  


“I’ll go,” Tuck said immediately. “What do you need?”

“A bowl of lukewarm water,” Regina said. “Not cold, lukewarm. And if Granny can spare some oil, mix it with lavender, thyme, rosemary and sage, and bring that up too. And some water for him to drink wouldn’t go amiss. Ivy will be able to help.”

Tuck nodded. “Should we send out a messenger to get Robin?”  


“Want Papa,” Roland mumbled.

“I know you do,” Regina said gently. “I don’t think there’s much point. By the time they’ve reached him, he’ll be on his way back anyway.”

“True,” Tuck conceded. “I’ll be right back.”

“Gina,” Roland whined. “I want Papa.”

Regina kicked her shoes off and curled up with him on the bed, letting him snuggle into her chest, wincing at the heat he was giving off and the sweat beading on his forehead. “Papa will be back soon, sweetheart. I promise.”

Roland sniffled, shivering, and she tucked him closer, automatically letting her magic wrap around him, just to make sure that this was a natural illness and not caused by some nefarious plot of her sister’s.

But, no, this was nothing more than a child’s fever, no less distressing - or dangerous - for its lack of magical origin.

It was Ivy who brought the requested items.

“Tuck’s gone to wait for Robin at the gates,” she explained, handing Regina the oil while she poured Roland a cup of water. “Here, honey, drink this; it’ll help.”

“Thank you Ivy,” Regina murmured, relieved when Roland didn’t fight, letting the cool water trickle down his throat.

“Of course,” Ivy said, soaking a cloth in the lukewarm water and ringing it out. “I’ll be on hand if you need me.”

Regina smiled weakly, setting the cloth against Roland’s forehead, causing him to squirm.

“Gina, it’s cold!”  


“I know sweetheart,” Regina said. “But that’s because you have a fever, and we need to cool it down. I know it’s not very nice.”  


“What’s that?” Roland asked, eyeing the oil. “Do I need to drink that?”

Regina chuckled. “No, you don’t need to drink it. It’s going to help your fever.”  


“Smells funny,” Roland mumbled.

“It does,” Regina conceded. “But it’s good for you.” Rubbing a small amount of the oil on to her fingertips, she gently began to rub it into the boy’s chest and over his collarbones.

Slowly, her gentle ministrations lulled him into a restless sleep and she set the oil to one side, wiping her fingers on her dress; it already still smelled slightly of vomit and was damp from the cloth on Roland’s forehead, so she was giving up on it.

Roland whimpered and shivered, and she tugged him a little closer, resting his head against her heart the way she had once done with Henry.

Less than half an hour later, there was a commotion in the corridor, and Regina winced, hoping that someone would at least have the sense to tell him to lower his voice.

Thankfully, although Robin burst into the room in a clear panic, he did so quietly, and when he saw her, the relief on his face was so strong and so pure, that she could hardly look at it, focussing instead on Roland.

“He’s alright.”  


“Tuck said he’s got a fever,” Robin said, hurrying to the bedside. “He’s …”  


“He’s a very miserable little boy,” Regina finished, hoping that her voice sounded reassuring. “I know how dangerous fevers can be, but this one isn’t. Given rest and fluids, he should be fine.”

“Papa …” Roland murmured, not opening his eyes.

“It’s alright, Roland,” Robin whispered, bending to kiss his forehead. “I’m right here.”  


Regina tried to get up, but Roland’s hands tightened on her dress with a whine.

“Nooo! Gina, stay please.”

Regina smiled. “It’s alright, sweetheart; I’m not going anywhere. I just figured I’d make room for your papa.”

And put some space between them, before she forgot that a little boy’s sickbed was an inappropriate time and place to make a move on the boy’s father.

Before she forgot what a bad idea that was anyway.

A soft tap on the door gave her the excuse she needed.

“Your Majesty,” Ivy said softly, mindful of the sleeping boy between them. “We have a visitor.”

“Who?” Regina asked sharply.

“Victor Frankenstein,” Ivy said. “Except he’s asking us to stick with Victor Whale instead. He’s requesting sanctuary but he says that it’s imperative that he speak with you as soon as possible.”  


“I see.” Regina gently untangled Roland’s hands. “I’m sorry, sweetheart. But I need to go and talk to Dr Whale.”  


“He’s a doctor?” Robin asked hopefully.

“I’ll get him to come up and check on him,” Regina said, pressing a quick kiss to Roland’s forehead. “Alright, Ivy, where is he?”

Whale was in the throne room, speaking to Snow and Charming, and when she entered, he greeted her with a low bow. “Your Majesty.”  


“What do you want?” Regina asked flatly.

“Mama!” Snow protested.

Whale raised an eyebrow. “That’s new.”  


“What do you want?” Regina repeated, slightly slower this time.

“First of all, I owe you an apology,” Whale said. “I was so desperate to save my brother that I allowed myself to take a deal that was horrific. I didn’t realise the damage it was going to do. I didn’t fully understand why he wanted me to fake it; I told myself it was because he was trying to protect people, that his return would cause a problem. But he was trying to break you and I realise now that I played a large part in that.”

Snow and Charming were starting to look confused and more than a little curious, and Regina had no wish to start to discuss it, not with them or with Whale. “Thank you. Ivy said this was imperative; an apology could have waited.”  


Whale nodded. “Of course. When we arrived back here, I was alone. I contemplated trying to find a way back to my realm, but I didn’t see the point; there was nothing there for me, not anymore. So I set up shop in a small town in Sentisrota; my interest may have been in necromancy, but I am still a doctor, in both realms. Early this morning, I received a visitor - a man who had come from Misthaven, who had been attacked by some kind of creature. He’d escaped but he had a nasty wound on his shoulder. I began to treat him, but then he began to seize and then - to my horror - he proceeded to turn into what I can only describe as a flying monkey. I was able to fend it off and it took off. Given the magic, and given where he came from, I figured that I should probably tell you.”

Snow looked like she was going to throw up. “My gods … is that why we can’t find any of them? She’s turning them into flying monkeys?”  


“She must be,” Regina murmured, feeling just as stunned herself. “Clearly they have no conscious thought in that state, otherwise …” she winced, a horrible thought occurring to her. “Oh gods, Roland’s monkey.”  


David’s eyes widened. “What are you going to do?”  


“He’s sick at the moment,” Regina said. “I can probably get away with switching it out.”

“You’ve got a sick resident?” Whale asked. “Perhaps I can help?”  


“Perhaps,” Regina agreed. “I’m fairly sure it’s just a standard fever and that it will pass, but I wouldn’t reject a second opinion. That is, if you two have no other questions?”

They both shook their heads.

“Try and keep trips outside the castle to a minimum,” Regina said. 

“What do we do about them?” David asked. “The people, I mean.”  


“We can’t do anything,” Regina said. “We need to stop Zelena first, and I still have no idea how to do that. We’ve already established that she’s stronger than I am.”

“We can’t just leave them there,” Snow protested.

Regina sighed. “Snow, this is a war. You can’t save everyone. We need to focus on stopping Zelena. If we can save her prisoners then that’s even better. If that’s all?” She didn’t wait for an answer, leading Whale out of the throne room. “I’ll have Ivy set up a room for you.”

“I really am sorry,” Whale said.

“I’m sure you are,” Regina said. “Out of interest, does that apology include the botched resurrection when I had to kill him again?”

Whale winced. “Yes.”

“And the time you tried to murder me with your bare hands?” Regina asked coldly.

“That was … a hasty reaction,” Whale conceded, “brought on by anger at myself more than you. Your curse had taken away the memories of all my failures. Given me a career that was actually worth something. And then it all collapsed. I am sorry.”

Regina paused outside Robin’s door. “Fine. Now be a doctor.” She tapped lightly on the wood before pushing the door open.

Roland hadn’t moved but Robin had taken her place, his son curled up against his chest, whimpering slightly.

“What made you think of the herbs?” Robin asked in greeting, rubbing some more of the oil on to his boy’s chest. “I didn’t learn of them until I was in the forest.”  


“Daddy used it when I was sick,” Regina answered. “Robin, this is Dr Victor Whale. Doctor, this is Robin of Locksley and his son, Roland.”  


The two men shook hands, and Whale bent over Roland, touching his forehead, before rooting in his bag and withdrawing a strange instrument.

“What is that?” Regina asked.

“It’s the closest I can get to a stethoscope out here,” Whale said with a scowl. “Unless you can do something about that, Your Majesty?”  


Regina thought for a second. She had tried to create some of the more useful inventions from the land without magic, but most of them ran on batteries or electricity, power that simply did not exist here in the Enchanted Forest.

A stethoscope, however, was much like the cardboard she had created for Roland’s shield - not powered by anything, but an invention that had not yet been made.

So, crossing her fingers, she waved a hand and the instrument in Whale’s hand changed.

“Excellent,” Whale said, far more cheerfully. “Thank you.”  


“What does it do?” Robin asked.

“It allows me to listen to his heart and lungs,” Whale answered.

“Does it hurt?” Roland asked weakly.

“Not at all,” Whale said. “Would you like to listen to mine first?”

Roland nodded, and Whale helped him with the ear-tips before placing the drum against his own chest.

“Can you hear that?”

Roland nodded again, his eyes wide.

“That’s something from the Land Without Magic?” Robin asked curiously.

“Indeed,” Whale said, taking the stethoscope back and listening to Roland’s chest. “They used to just put their ear to your chest like we do here, but this is far more accurate. Not sure what prompted the invention though.”  


“I believe,” Regina said, “that it was a doctor who was reluctant to place his ear against a lady’s chest.” She was trying to figure out how to get Roland’s monkey out of his arms without upsetting the boy.

Thankfully, for once, Whale appeared to be on the same wavelength. “Okay, Roland, I need you to sit forward for me; I need to listen to your lungs and it’s easier through your back. Is it okay if we move monkey for a moment?”

Roland hesitated and Regina stepped forwards. “Why don’t I hold on to him for you, sweetheart? Only for a little bit.”

Roland nodded and Regina took the monkey, running a hand across its fur. The magic still felt like her own, but she didn’t want to take any chances.

A second later, she was holding two toys - identical in every way, except the new one had no magic whatsoever.

Of course, there was a chance that Roland could be sensitive to that, so she placed a mild protective charm on it, one that would bring the child comfort as he slept.

Roland hadn’t noticed a thing, but Robin certainly had. He met her eyes over Whale’s head and gave her a questioning look. She tucked the original monkey away under her cloak and shook her head.

“Well then,” Whale said, easing Roland back down again. “You’re absolutely right, Your Majesty; it’s just a mild fever, nothing to be concerned about. A few days rest and lots of fluid and he should be right as rain.”

“Good,” Regina said, tucking the new monkey in beside Roland. She held her breath, but he just cuddled into it and fell asleep. “Come with me, doctor; we’ll get you set up in a room.”  


“Thank you,” Whale said. “Just keep an eye on him,” he added to Robin. “If his breathing starts getting laboured, let me know.”  


Robin nodded. “Thank you.” 

Regina fully expected him to follow them out of the room, and he didn’t disappoint. By the time she had handed Whale over to Ivy (who wouldn’t look him in the eye, even though Regina was fairly sure she hadn’t been one of the man’s conquests under the curse - maybe that was the problem), Robin was leaning against the doorframe. “So what was with the monkey?”  


Regina sighed. “Victor had one of our missing villagers come to him for help after being attacked by one of the beasts.”

Robin straightened up. “They must have crossed the boundary.”  


“Must have,” Regina agreed. “But before he could help, the poor man turned into a flying monkey himself.”  


Robin’s eyes widened. “But that means …”  


Regina nodded. “Zelena’s army is made up of brainwashed prisoners.” She withdrew the toy from her cloak. “So I wanted to get this away from Roland, just to be safe. And before you ask, no, we can’t do anything about it right now, except issue a warning. Zelena needs to remain our priority, not a rescue mission.”  


“Of course,” Robin conceded. “That doesn’t mean you’re not going to take that toy to your library and try and figure out an answer.”

Regina faltered, taken aback once again by his ability to see straight through her. “Yes, I am. But it’s highly likely that I wont be able to fix it until Zelena’s dealt with and her magic is undone. So let’s not get people’s hopes up.”


	7. October

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> It's Emma's birthday - Regina is struggling, Robin is understanding, and they both regret nothing.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> It hit me while writing this that Emma was not eighteen when she had Henry, but seventeen, because she turned 28 after he turned 10. Means she turned 18 after he was born.   
> Doesn't have that much impact (although in the UK she'd have been considered a minor, so not sure whether the jail sentence would have changed) but Emma did say she was 18 in Ohana Means Family, so I might need to address that in future.

Once again, Regina was sitting under her apple tree, most of its leaves littering the ground around her, avoiding a party.

This time, however, it wasn’t a birthday party for Henry; it was a ball, in honour of the missing Crown Princess.

Today was Emma’s 30th birthday, which meant it was also the 30th anniversary of the curse being cast. 

So Regina was avoiding it, not because of the pain of Henry’s absence, but because she hardly thought anyone wanted her presence, not when she was the reason Emma would never attend one of these balls herself.

Snow had been trying to get her involved, insisting that she wanted her stepmother there, but Regina was certain that she was the only one.

As a result, she had been increasingly sharp-tongued with everyone in the weeks leading up to the celebration, so much so that the whispers about the Evil Queen had started up again.

She didn’t care.

It was better this way.

Somehow, though, she was unsurprised when, once again, Robin appeared out of the darkness and took the seat beside her on the bench.

“I’m not going to apologise,” she said simply.

“Of course not,” Robin said. “As far as I’m concerned, there’s no apology needed.”

Regina sighed. “I have been a complete bitch for weeks; just for once, can you react like a normal person?!”

Robin raised an eyebrow. “How would a normal person react, Your Majesty? Shun you, ignore you, decide that you’re evil incarnate and abandon you to your obvious grief?” He didn’t wait for her to answer. “You have lost your child. I don’t know what I’d do if I lost Roland; losing Marian was unimaginable but Roland … I don’t know if I could keep putting one foot in front of the other. And you not only do that, but you manage to keep the country running smoothly at the same time; if to do that, you need to take your anger out on me, then so be it.”

“It’s not Henry,” Regina admitted in a low voice. “Not this time anyway.”

Robin frowned. “It’s your … step-granddaughter then?”

Regina pulled a face. “Don’t call her that.”  


“Is she not?” Robin asked.

“Technically, I suppose,” Regina admitted begrudgingly. “But Emma … Emma is also Henry’s birth mother.”

Robin stared at her for a second. “I knew that your son had stayed with her. And I knew that she had a son. For some reason, I just assumed that she had two boys with her now. I assume you didn’t know that when you adopted him?”  


Regina laughed bitterly. “Absolutely not. Henry went to find her two years ago today. Ran away, nearly gave me a heart attack, and came back with his _real mother_.” She shook her head. “He’d found out about the adoption and not taken it well, but then … he got his hands on this book about the Enchanted Forest, and figured out about the curse. He decided I was evil and so he went to get Emma to break the curse.”  


“And she did,” Robin concluded.

“Not for eight months,” Regina said with a sigh. “But she did. Today isn’t just her birthday, it’s the day I cast the curse. The day Snow and Charming sent their newborn away to keep her safe from me. Snow might think she wants me there, but the others don’t.”

For a second, she thought Robin might argue with her, but he simply nodded, and they sat in companionable silence for a few minutes.

“Might I ask you a question?” Robin asked finally.

Regina’s lips quirked into a smile. “Just one?”

“Well, now that you mention it,” Robin said, “I actually have two that I’ve been wondering about.”

Regina shrugged. “If you must. I don’t know why I answer you so readily.”  


“I’d say that’s obvious, milady,” Robin said. “You know I will listen, and you know I will keep your confidence. You know you can trust me.”

“Yes,” Regina said softly. “I suppose I do. Remarkable really.”  


“Because I’m a thief?” Robin asked lightly.

“No,” Regina admitted. “Because I can’t remember the last time I trusted someone freely and without having leverage over them. What was your question?”  


“From what I understand,” Robin said, “Henry had to stay behind because of the price of the magic, and I know that all magic has a price. But if that’s so, why are you so free in using it?”

Regina gave a small smile. “You understand correctly. The price of reversing the curse was for me to give up that which I loved most. To never see my son again. All magic comes with a price, that’s true, but it depends on the magic as to what the price is and how bad it is. The more … innocuous the magic, the lesser the price. For example, when I do something like conjure a handkerchief or transport myself to another room, the price of that magic is just energy, the same as I would exert energy doing either of those things manually.”  


“I see,” Robin said. “And the bigger prices … Do you set them?”  


“Sometimes,” Regina said. “That’s why Rumple made deals. Generally the magic tells you what the price is. With reversing the curse … I might have been able to override the price and bring Henry here. But magic would have taken another price, possibly even his life. Sometimes magic doesn’t tell you and you can set something yourself. But if you don’t … magic will.”  


“What about a wand?” Robin asked. “If someone without magic used a wand, would magic exact a price?”  


Regina thought about that for a second. “That’s a moot point.”

“Why?” Robin asked.

“Because someone without magic couldn’t use a wand,” Regina said simply. “You’d need some kind of innate magic to even make it work.”

“I don’t have any innate magic,” Robin said. “I used the Black Fairy’s wand once.”

Regina froze. “You did what? That was in Rumple’s possession - did you have a death wish?!”

“I was desperate,” Robin said quietly. “Marian was about seven months along with Roland - she was getting sicker and sicker, and we were going to lose both of them. I’d tried everything else.”  


“And rather than making a deal, you thought stealing from the Dark One was the best move,” Regina said, shaking her head. “That’s how you know Belle, isn’t it? She saved you.”  


“She did,” Robin said softly. “Even so, I’m lucky. He had my bow; it’s enchanted to never miss. Belle thinks he chose to let me live, because there was a child involved. She came to me instead, took the wand and gave me back my bow.”

Regina shook her head. “You should have taken a deal.”  


“I wanted to save my child,” Robin said darkly. “Not sacrifice him.”

“He wouldn’t have asked for Roland,” Regina said. “Rumple was … a monster in many ways. But to save a child … I don’t know what he’d have asked for, but he’d have made it small. And made you feel like it was something awful.”

“Maybe,” Robin said softly. “But I could use the wand, and I did, and … Is that what killed my wife?”  


“No,” Regina said with certainty. “You said Roland was three months old when she died. If it was the magic, she would have died in childbirth. I don’t know what the price was, Robin, but it wasn’t her life.”

“Could Roland be … harmed in some way?” Robin asked.

“I doubt it,” Regina said honestly. “I think you would have noticed. And I haven’t noticed anything when I’ve been with him.”  


Robin breathed an obvious sigh of relief. “Thank you.”

Regina tilted her head. “Actually … I might know what the price was.”  


“What?” Robin asked.

Regina smiled. “When Belle gave you the bow back, did she specifically tell you it was yours?”  


Robin frowned. “No. But I’ve never missed a shot.”  


“So I hear,” Regina said. “Have you tried any impossible shots since then though?”  


Robin thought for a moment. “No.”  


Regina nodded. “Didn’t think so. I assume that bow was the one you had when we broke in here?”  


“Naturally,” Robin agreed.

“Because I was checking for magic throughout the journey through that tunnel,” Regina said, “and I didn’t pick up on that enchantment. I think Rumple took the bow as payment.”

“Do you think Belle knew?” Robin asked.

Regina shrugged. “Maybe. But that was more than two questions,” she added, trying to lighten the mood.

It worked - he grinned at her, dimples in full force and making her traitorous heart flutter in her chest in spite of the dim light. “Actually, that was one, and follow-ups.”  


“You didn’t say anything about follow-ups,” Regina said, smiling herself now.

Robin gave her a mock-bow from his seat. “My apologies, Your Majesty. May I trouble you with my second question?”  


Regina pretended to consider it for a moment. “I suppose so.”  


Robin’s smile became kinder, and she braced herself. “I know that there are no more portals to the Land Without Magic, but can I ask why you can’t just recast the Dark Curse and take yourself back to Henry?”

The question caused all humour to evaporate from between them and Regina looked away, trying to decide whether to answer fully, or even at all.

“First of all,” she said slowly, “even if I did, Henry still wouldn’t remember me. Second of all … I can’t.” She smiled sadly. “I stole the curse from Rumple, you know. Or rather, he let me steal it, because that’s what he wanted the whole time. I traded it to Maleficent for the sleeping curse, but I took it back again, and … She  told me it was a bad idea. That it wasn’t worth it.”

“It has the price written in, doesn’t it?” Robin asked softly. “What was it?”

Regina took a deep breath.

This was it.

This was the thing that would drive him away, would make him see her as the monster she truly was.

“The heart of the one you love the most,” she said flatly. “I had to rip it out, crush it to dust and add it to the curse. So you see, I can’t cast it again. The one I love the most is a world away. And if he wasn’t, I wouldn’t need the curse.”

To her surprise, although he looked taken aback by her words, there was no horror or disgust in his eyes and he stayed right where he was, digesting what she had told him, and she waited for the obvious question.

“You must have hated her a lot.”

Regina blinked. “You’re not going to ask me who?”  


“That’s hardly any of my business, milady,” Robin said. “If you wish to talk about it, of course I will listen. But I won’t ask. But to take such desperate measures, you must have hated Snow White.”  


Regina looked away. “I didn’t,” she said softly. “I can see that now. Rumple had spent so long messing with my head that he had me convinced that I did, that it was her fault.”

“What was her fault?” Robin asked curiously. “The common story that went round was that you were jealous of her beauty, but it obviously wasn’t that.”

“How do you know?” Regina asked, glancing back at him.

Robin smiled. “The princess is lovely, of course. But I have always failed to see how a woman widely known to be the most beautiful in all the realms could possibly be threatened by her, especially not to that extent.”

Thank goodness it was fairly dark out; he wouldn’t be able to see the look on her face, which she was fairly certain had to be embarrassing.

“I think,” she said softly, “that you’re thinking of Queen Eva.”

“I am?” Robin asked.

“I could never match her beauty,” Regina said with a weak smile. “He made that very obvious.”  


“Then he was blind as well as a fool,” Robin said, scowl obvious in his voice even though she was trying not to look at him. “I remember Queen Eva. Again, she was lovely, but certainly no match for you, milady.”

Anyone else, and she would think he was trying to court her, but the space between them remained the same.

No, this was a man simply stating what he felt was an irrefutable fact.

Regina could deal with seduction, trickery, flattery and lies.

Pure honesty was a new one.

“She told a secret,” she blurted out, trying to get the conversation back to more comfortable (relatively speaking) ground. “As a result, someone I cared about died. Rumple used my grief to convince me to start learning dark magic and it …”  


“He brainwashed you,” Robin finished.

“No,” Regina said firmly. “I made my choices. And I won’t try and get away from that, but …”  


“But nothing,” Robin interrupted. “Can you tell me, honestly, that if Rumplestiltskin had never showed up, you would have tried to kill her?”

“No,” Regina admitted. “She was my daughter. I loved her. He made me forget about that. But I let him. And it was my father.”

“Sorry?” Robin asked.

“The heart I crushed,” Regina said, her voice breaking. “It was my father. He … He’d always been there. He didn’t even try to stop me; he just told me that he … he wanted me to be happy.”  


“Of course he did,” Robin said. In the darkness, he shifted a little closer to her. He didn’t take her hand but just left his on the bench next to hers, their skin just touching. “Any good parent would sacrifice anything for their children.”

Regina shook her head. “I killed him.”

“Do you regret it?” Robin asked.

Regina chewed on her lower lip. “No,” she said finally. “I had to face that in Neverland. I don’t regret it. I can’t. If I hadn’t cast the curse, then Emma would never have met Neal, and Henry would never have been born. And he certainly would never have been mine. And I can’t regret anything that led me to my son. All of the pain, and the suffering, and the losses … it all melted away as soon as they placed him in my arms.”

“Children are good at that,” Robin murmured. “I could never bring myself to regret anything that led me to Roland, even if the pregnancy nearly killed his mother. And Marian would have said the same. Even if it had killed her, she would have said the same, with her dying breath.” His fingers brushed against hers, entwining with them when she didn’t pull away. “It’s okay to be happy without them. And it’s okay not to regret that.”  


Anyone else, and Regina might have resented the attempt.

But Robin _understood_. 

He was telling himself as much as he was telling her.

And here, in the dark, maybe she could allow herself to accept it.

“Yes,” she whispered, squeezing his hand. “I know.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Please let me know what you think.


	8. November

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In which Roland turns 5, Regina has a nightmare, and Snow has doubts.

After she had been particularly open with Robin, she tended to avoid him for a while, and Emma’s birthday was no exception.

He - to his credit - seemed to understand that she needed to build her walls back up, to protect herself from the pain that would inevitably come from being so weak, and always gave her the space she needed.

But only a few weeks after their last conversation under the apple tree, a knock came at her bedroom door, while she was trying to draft an important letter.

“Come in,” she called absently, expecting it to be Ivy, or even Snow.

But no, there was Robin, looking rather sheepish.

Regina raised an eyebrow. “You’ve learned to knock,” she drawled. “Will wonders never cease.”  


“You didn’t invite me this time, milady,” Robin said, approaching her. “I was … Is that Sherwood’s seal?”

Regina’s eyes drifted to the letter she was replying to, still open on her writing desk. “Yes. Yes, it is. I received a letter from Richard this morning.”

“May I enquire as to what it pertains?”

Regina glanced up, noting the way his demeanour had stiffened. He was well-spoken at the best of times, a hark back to his upbringing no doubt, but when he was uncomfortable, she had noticed, his speech patters reverted to those of the court. “Oh, the usual. Welcome home, let me know if you need any assistance with the witch, I want those outlaws’ heads on a spike. To be expected, really.”

Robin gave a stiff nod. “Say no more, Your Majesty. We’ll be out of here first thing in the morning.”  


“You’ll do no such thing,” Regina said, dipping her quill in the ink pot again. “It’s not safe out there for any of you, especially Roland.”  


Robin faltered. “Forgive me, Your Majesty - you just said that Richard was offering assistance, and that he wanted our heads.”  


“I did,” Regina agreed.

“We’re not worth starting a war over,” Robin said.

Regina hesitated. “Under _current_ circumstances,” she said slowly, “witch and all, I would have to agree. However, it wouldn’t be _me_ starting the war.”

“I don’t understand,” Robin admitted.

Regina allowed herself a smile. “No, I shouldn’t think you do. Have you ever heard of the Monarch’s Clemency law?”  


“I’ve heard of a monarch’s clemency,” Robin said. “But I didn’t know it was a law.”  


“It’s an old one,” Regina said. “One of the few that’s consistent throughout the Enchanted Forest. If someone saves the life of a reigning monarch, they are automatically pardoned for all crimes they have committed prior to that date. You did save Snow and I from that flying monkey, did you not?”  


“Well, yes,” Robin said, “but …”  


“Now obviously, that was just you,” Regina continued, “but he doesn’t know that. So I’m writing to him to inform him that Snow and I owe you and your men our lives so I’ve issued royal pardons.”  


“What’s the difference between a royal pardon and a pardon?” Robin asked faintly.

“A pardon clears you in Misthaven,” Regina said. “It doesn’t clear you in Sherwood and it doesn’t stop him from sending his men in to get you. A royal pardon places you directly under my protection and if he sends his men in to get you, it’s considered an act of war. So I,” she finished, signing her name with a flourish, “will not be firing the first shot.”

“Thank you,” Robin said quietly.

“It’s not for you,” Regina said, not entirely truthfully. “Richard is an odious little toad.”

“Still, you didn’t have to do that,” Robin said.

“And what would I tell Roland if I didn’t?” Regina asked with a slight smile.

“Speaking of Roland,” Robin said, “it’s his birthday tomorrow.”

“Well, thank you for the advanced notice,” Regina said, rolling her eyes. “What would he like?”  


“He’d like you to join us for his birthday picnic,” Robin answered. “Every year, Roland and I take a walk through the forest on his birthday and build a campfire and have a picnic. Obviously the forest is out, but I was hoping you would have another idea, and Roland was hoping you would accompany us.”

“What about you?” Regina asked. “This is something that’s just between you and him, isn’t it?”  


“Traditionally,” Robin admitted. “But there’s nothing wrong with traditions changing, wouldn’t you say?”  


She should say no.

She should try to avoid getting any closer to this man than she already was. 

Maybe her mother was wrong about love being a weakness, but with Zelena out to get her, her love certainly was weakness - maybe not for her, but for him.

Every second she spent with him put him in more danger; she had to remember that.

“In that case,” she found herself saying, “I’m sure we can come up with something. It might not be a walk in the forest, but there is somewhere we can build a campfire.”

Well, at least if she was with them, she could keep them safe.

So the following morning, Regina dressed as if she were going riding and met Robin and Roland outside the dining hall.

Roland was practically vibrating with excitement, which bubbled over when he saw her into a squeal and a hug that nearly knocked her off balance.

“Happy Birthday, Roland,” Regina murmured, kissing his forehead. “Are you looking forward to our picnic?”

Roland nodded. “Papa says we can’t go out to the forest, cause it’s not safe. Not even with you?”  


“I’m afraid not, my little knight,” Regina said. “But I do have somewhere we can go, okay?”

Roland smiled and took her hand - although she wasn’t convinced he _was_ okay, she let it go; the forest was out of the question anyway.

“Well, then,” Robin said cheerfully, “lead on, milady.”  


“Gina,” Roland said curiously as they headed out of the castle. “Why can I call you Gina and Papa can’t?”  


Regina chuckled. “Because you’re my favourite.”  


Roland beamed. “Hear that Papa? _I’m_ Gina’s favourite.”  


“Well, of course you are,” Robin said, not offended in the least. “She has excellent taste.”

As they neared the stables, Roland’s hand tightened around hers. “Are we going riding, Gina?”

The nervousness in his voice made her glance down at him. “No, sweetheart. Not today.”  


“Oh good,” Roland said. “Cause I don’t know how.”  


Regina glanced at Robin, who just shrugged. “Would you like to learn?”

“Really?” Roland asked.

“Well, you are five whole years old now,” Regina said. “I’m sure we can figure something out.” 

One of the horses began whinnying and she stopped. “Sorry, if I don’t do this, she’ll throw a fit.”

“Do what?” Roland asked curiously.

Regina chuckled. “Well, I got in the habit of slipping Goldie here a piece of apple when I came by the stables. So now she expects it.”

“I think there’s a lesson in there somewhere,” Robin commented.

Regina smiled, although it was tinged with sadness. “Someone once warned me about spoiling my horses. I never have a problem getting them to do what I want though.”

It was a debate she and Daniel had constantly.

Shaking those thoughts off, she conjured a couple of apple slices from the kitchen. “Would you like to give her one as well, Roland?”

Roland shook his head, shrinking back against his father. “She’s kind of big.”  


“That’s because you’re little,” Robin said, scooping him up. “Why don’t we just go and stand next to Her Majesty while she gives Goldie her treat?”

Roland nodded, watching curiously while Regina gave the mare her first apple slice. “Can I stroke her?”  


“Of course,” Regina said. “Just let her sniff your fingers first so she knows who you are.”  


Roland giggled at the hot air that blew over his hands. “It tickles.” He stroked the horse’s neck, mimicking his father.

“She’s quite a beauty,” Robin said. “Aren’t you?”

The horse gave a toss of her head and a snort as if she was agreeing with him.

“And quite a character,” Regina said dryly.

“Gina,” Roland said, “ _can_ I give her the other one?”

Regina smiled. “Of course you can. Hold your hand out flat like this.” She wasn’t surprised when Robin shifted to cup his son’s hand, keeping his little fingers out of the way.

Roland gave another giggle when the horse took the second slice, and Regina couldn’t help chuckling along. 

“That tickles too, doesn’t it?”

Roland wiggled and Robin let him down to the ground. “Where to, milady?”  


“Not that much farther,” Regina answered, wiping her hands and giving Goldie one last pat. “It’s just round that corner.”  


Roland trotted off, leaving them to follow at a more sedate pace.

“Thank you for that,” Robin said, “and for the offer to teach him. He hasn’t had a chance to be around that many horses.”

“She’s a perfect horse to learn on,” Regina said, “if he wants to learn.”  


“Gina,” Roland said, when they caught up with him. “There’s nothing here. Just a wall.”

Regina chuckled. “Are you sure, my little knight?” She brushed her hand through the ivy and grasped the hidden door handle, before pushing it open.

Roland’s mouth fell open. “Gina, you said the forest wasn’t safe.”  


Regina laughed. “This isn’t the forest, sweetheart. I know it looks like it, but this is part of a walled garden. All of it perfectly covered in my magic.”

“Please tell me you didn’t do all of this last night?” Robin asked quietly as Roland darted off to explore.

“Don’t be ridiculous,” Regina said. “It was already here. Clearly one of my predecessors wanted to enjoy strolls through the forest without encountering the peasantry.”  


“Naturally,” Robin said, with no less sarcasm than her. “So it’s all … walled in.”  


“All walled in and protected,” Regina said.

“Even so,” Robin said, raising his voice so his son would hear him, “not up the trees please, Roland.”

Roland pouted, but slithered back down the trunk he had been climbing like a bear cub.

“He’s really in his element, isn’t he?” Regina asked.

Robin smiled proudly. “That he is. When I left home, I was like a fish out of water. I never wanted him to feel like that.”  


“Well, you’ve done that,” Regina said. “He’s exceptionally well-adjusted, considering everything he’s …” she trailed off, realising that Roland was now sitting at the base of the tree he’d been trying to climb, looking like he was about to cry. “That’s not …”  


Robin frowned. “That’s not because I told him he couldn’t climb, no. He knows I don’t say no for no reason, so he listens when I do.”  


“As I said,” Regina said dryly, “remarkably well-adjusted.”

Without a word to each other about it, the two made their way over to where the little boy was curled up, sitting either side of him.

“What’s wrong, buddy?” Robin asked.

Roland shrugged. “Nothin’.”  


“It doesn’t look like nothing,” Robin said. “It’s your birthday and something’s making you upset. Is it because we can’t go out to the forest?”

“Can she still see me?” Roland asked in a small voice.

For a second, Regina thought he meant the witch, and her heart clenched with terror at the thought that maybe her sister had managed to get close to the child after all.

Judging by the look Robin gave her over his son’s head, he was thinking along the same lines.

“Who?” Robin asked, his voice gentle, but with an undertone of steel that Regina was sure only she could hear.

“Mama,” Roland whispered.

Just like that, Regina relaxed, her heart beginning to hurt in another way, not helped by the way Robin’s heart visibly broke. Seeing that he was apparently lost for words, she scooped Roland up and on to her lap, praying that she wasn’t about to make things worse. “What do you mean, sweetheart?”

“Mama’s in the trees and in the stars,” Roland recited, “and she watches over me. But if I’m in the castle, I can’t see the trees and the stars, so can she see me?”  


“Yes,” Regina said firmly, before he’d even finished speaking. “Yes, she can.”  


“How?” Roland asked, gazing at her wide-eyed.

“Magic,” Regina answered.

Roland frowned. “Mama didn’t have magic. Did she?” He asked his father.

“No,” Robin said, giving Regina a strange look.

“Not like my magic,” Regina said with a smile. “But I’ll tell you a secret, Roland. When you become a mama - or a papa - you get a special kind of magic that means that if you have to go and live in the stars, you can always see your babies. So your mama can always see you, Roland, no matter where you are. Right?”

“Right,” Robin said, a little faintly. “You’re absolutely right.”

“So if I tell Mama about my birthday here, she can still hear me?” Roland asked brightly.

Regina swallowed around the lump in her throat. “Of course she can. And I think she’d love to hear it.”

Roland scrambled to his feet and darted off into the forest, presumably to find an appropriate tree to stand in for his mother.

Regina stayed sitting, her eyes straying to Robin. “Are you okay?”  


“Yeah.” Robin let out a breathless chuckle, rubbing a hand over his face. “I swear, every time I think I’ve got over it, something … something punches me in the stomach.”

“I know,” Regina murmured. “I get it.”  


Robin gave her a shrewd look. “The horses?”

Regina smiled sadly. “Daniel worked in the stables. He used to tease me about spoiling them.”

“He was the one that died because the princess told a story?” Robin asked. “Who was he?”

“My fiancé,” Regina answered softly. “We never got to the wedding. Snow told my mother that we were planning to run away, and Mother killed him, because she wanted me to marry the king.”

“My gods …” Robin breathed.

Regina laughed bitterly. “I really need to figure out how you do that, you know.”  


“Do what?” Robin asked.

“I find myself telling you things,” Regina said. “Not just answering questions, telling you things that I would normally keep private.”  


“You trust me,” Robin said, echoing his words from a few weeks previously.

“Yes, but _why_?” Regina asked, a little frustrated. “Not that you’re not trustworthy, but _I_ don’t trust easily.”

“If I could answer that question, milady, I feel like I would have the answer to a lot more,” Robin said quietly.

There was an odd note in his voice that caught her attention, but before she could think any more of it, Roland’s voice floated over to them. “Gina! Come play with me!”

Robin chuckled. “Well, you’ve got your orders, Your Majesty.”

Regina couldn’t help laughing. “So I do. I assume you can manage a campfire by yourself.”

“Naturally,” Robin said. “Although normally I’d hunt for lunch; I’m guessing there’s a shortage of game within these walls.”  


“There is,” Regina agreed, “but I thought of that.” With a wave of her hand, a picnic basket appeared next to the tree.

“Of course you did,” Robin said with a smile. “Thank you.”

“Gina!”  


“Coming sweetheart,” Regina called, jogging over to scoop him up. He went with a giggle, clinging to her. “Now then, my little knight,” she said fondly. “What are we playing?”

* * *

Regina couldn’t move.

Her feet were stuck to the ground, her voice stolen from her by her sister’s spell, unable to do anything but watch as her sister’s simian army laid waste to her castle, and everyone in it.

Zelena gave her a cold smile. “I told you that I would take everything from you.”

With a flick of her hand, Robin was dragged out to stand before them, gasping for breath as blood began to bloom across his shirt. “Regina …”

“Yes, Regina,” Zelena said brightly. “Do help him.”

Robin staggered, dropping to his knees in front of her. “Regina …”  


Something was tapping nearby, but Regina couldn’t focus, trying to fight against her invisible bonds.

“Mama?”  


Regina bolted up out of bed with a gasp of her own, blinking rapidly to get rid of the vision of Robin’s dying body from her mind.

It was just a nightmare.

Robin - and Roland - were safe and sound, tucked up in bed after their day together.

Zelena was still kept away from the castle by her protection spell.

And she had checked - Zelena had left nothing behind with which to spy on them.

There was no reason for her to suspect that Robin was a reasonable target to use against her.

Still didn’t make the dream any more pleasant.

“Mama?”

The soft voice on the other side of the door made her realise that the tapping in her dream had not been in her dream at all, but was her stepdaughter, knocking on her bedroom doors.

Collapsing back on to her pillow, Regina stifled a yawn. “Come in.”  


Snow slipped inside, barely visible in the dim light, still dressed in her nightgown. “Did I wake you?”  


“Yes,” Regina said. “But I was having a nightmare, so thank you. It’s early though, dear; what’s wrong?”  


“I couldn’t sleep,” Snow admitted sheepishly.

She hadn’t done this for years, since she was a young girl and missing her mother, but Regina shifted over automatically, lifting the edge of the blanket so her stepdaughter could get in beside her.

“Good heavens child,” she muttered. “Your feet feel like icicles.”  


“Sorry,” Snow murmured. “Castle’s cold. I miss central heating.”  


Regina sighed. “Me too.”  


“What was your nightmare about?” Snow asked.

Regina was quiet for a moment. “Zelena.”

Snow nodded. “Mine was about Emma.”  


“Emma?” Regina repeated. “Something happening to her, you mean.”  


“No,” Snow whispered. “Emma here, telling us that we’d let her down. And abandoned her.”  


“You didn’t,” Regina said. “You’ve always done your best with Emma. You know that.”

Snow gave a small nod and a sniffle. “I think I’m pregnant.”

Regina closed her eyes. “Please tell me that the two of you didn’t decide now was the best time.”  


“No,” Snow admitted. “But we didn’t exactly decide that Emma was the best time either.”  


“Obviously not,” Regina said. “You weren’t married yet.”  


“Were too,” Snow retorted.

“Dear, I was at your wedding, briefly,” Regina said. “I could sense her.”  


“Yes, but that was just a public ceremony,” Snow said. “When David’s mother was dying, her only regret was that she wouldn’t see the wedding. So Lancelot married us, with just her in attendance. He was a knight of Camelot, so he had the power. So we were married when Emma was conceived. But we were in a war, so, no, she wasn’t exactly planned. Wanted, but not planned.” She sighed. “Just like this one.”

“It will be alright,” Regina murmured, as her stepdaughter cuddled into her. “This isn’t like last time. Zelena’s after _me,_ not you. We’ll keep them safe.”

“Emma told us that she wanted us to live our lives,” Snow said. “She said it wasn’t replacing her and to tell any new babies that their big sister loves them. I’m not betraying her.”  


“Of course you’re not,” Regina said.

Snow was quiet for a while, so long that Regina thought she must have drifted off to sleep. “Then why does it feel like I am?”


	9. December

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In which Blue and Regina clear the air, and Regina makes a discovery about Robin.

The fairies were back.

Why, exactly, it had taken them this long to travel from Fairy Land to Misthaven, Regina didn’t know - or care - but they were here and - more importantly, to her mind - Tinkerbelle was with them, a fairy once more.

Upon arrival, she immediately made herself human-sized in order to throw her arms around Regina in an embrace that the queen returned with unexpected emotion; she hadn't realised just how much she had gotten used to having the fairy around again until she vanished.

Blue’s attention was immediately drawn to Snow, and a private discussion immediately took place.

“What’s all that about?” Tinkerbelle murmured.

Regina smiled sadly. “I think I know.”  


“How are you holding up?” Tinkerbelle asked instead.

Regina sighed. “I’ve been better,” she said frankly. “I’m …” she trailed off, unsure how to explain it.

Tinkerbelle nodded knowingly. “One foot in front of the other. Just keep moving.”  


“Yeah, exactly,” Regina said.

“Your Majesty.”

Regina stiffened, turning to face the Blue Fairy, who had now finished with Snow and was standing before her, also human-sized. “Yes?”  


Blue observed her for a few moments. “The protection spell is your work?”  


“Naturally,” Regina drawled. “There aren’t any other magic users in the castle, that I’m aware of.”

“Of course,” Blue said with a small smile. “The witch?”  


“My half-sister, apparently,” Regina said, trying to sound as though she couldn’t care less - and failing, judging by the look on Tinkerbelle’s face. “She wants to destroy me. So far, though, we have no idea what she’s up to.”

“Of course,” Blue murmured again. “I was hoping you and I could have a word, Your Majesty. Clear the air.”

Regina pursed her lips, but nodded. “I assume you’d like a bit more privacy than you had with my daughter.”

Dropping the ‘step’ was something she rarely did, but now it was a calculated move, designed to make it clear to the fairy that things well and truly changed within the castle.

Blue faltered, but her smile widened and became more genuine. “If you please.”

Regina nodded, leading the way out of the dining hall, where the fairies had made their entrance during lunch (excellent timing on their part), and to a nearby antechamber. 

Blue raised her wand. “You don’t mind if I put up a spell so we’re not overheard?”  


“Of course not,” Regina said, creating two chairs with a wave of her hand.

Fairy magic flashed through the chamber, causing Regina to flinch automatically, but it didn’t come with the sense of discomfort that she usually felt.

“I see light magic doesn’t bother you as much as it once did,” Blue commented, taking a seat.

“I didn’t realise it had been bothering me,” Regina said honestly, sitting opposite her. “You wanted to talk.”

Blue waved her wand again, producing a tea set out of thin air. “May I?”  


“By all means.” Regina leaned back in her chair, trying to emit an air of nonchalance.

Even in Storybrooke, before the curse broke, when Blue was, as far as she knew, a normal woman barely older than Regina herself, speaking to the head fairy gave Regina a sense of being scolded by a great-aunt.

“I’ve often wondered,” Blue began, pouring the tea, “what happened to you.”  


“If you want my life story, you should have borrowed Henry’s book,” Regina said.

Blue shook her head. “Not like that. The night you met Tinkerbelle, you wished on a star.”

“Did she tell you what happened?” Regina asked in a low voice.

“No,” Blue said. “Tinkerbelle has kept her silence about what transpired between you. No, my curiosity comes from this: you were under the Dark One’s tutelage. Why decide to turn to the fairies then?”

Regina shrugged, picking up one of the tea cups. “I don’t know. I think …” she hesitated, half-tempted to put up a front, but she was tired - too tired to play games. “I was miserable. I know Eva was your charge, but …”  


“How did you know that?” Blue asked sharply.

Regina paused, frowning. “I … don’t know. I guess I just always assumed. Snow said she didn’t have a fairy godmother, so your interest in her could only be explained if it was one of her parents.”

Blue relaxed a little. “For a second, I thought you could see fairy bonds.”

Regina laughed. “No, if I could do that, I think you’d have known about it by now.”

Blue smiled. “True.”  


“Anyway, I assume that Eva’s life with Leopold must have been far better than my own,” Regina said, “or you would have stepped in to help her. She was a good person, unlike me. I didn’t actually wish for help, just for a way out. I wasn’t expecting a fairy to come. I mean, you never had before; why would you start then?”

Across from her, Blue stiffened, slowly lowering her teacup. “What do you mean?”  


Regina frowned. “Well, I wished on stars throughout my childhood. My mother was … Well, you know the kind of woman my mother was. I wished for someone to help me, to help Daddy. For a way out, for an escape, for someone to protect me. No one ever answered. Rumple said it was because I was Mother’s daughter and I was inherently dark - too dark for fairies to bother with. I mean, that’s why Tinkerbelle lost her wings, isn’t it?”  


“No,” Blue said, her voice trembling. “No, she lost her wings because she had broken a number of rules and I was … I was too harsh on her. I admit that now. But, Regina - we never heard your wishes. I don’t know why, but we never heard you. I did know the kind of woman your mother was and I can assure you that, if I’d heard you, we would have helped you. As for being inherently dark … child, that’s not how it works.”  


“What?” Regina asked in a small voice.

“No child is born dark,” Blue said gently. “Darkness is something that comes to you through life, either because you seek it out, or because you suffer to the point that it becomes alluring. But you … you didn’t realise you had another choice, did you?”

“Rumple …” Regina faltered, her mind racing. “He was the one who convinced me that vengeance was my only option. I didn’t want vengeance, I wanted Daniel back. He … He requested Whale, but it failed. It was meant to fail. He …”  


“He broke you,” Blue murmured, putting her cup down. “He broke you and then he moulded you into a weapon to cast the curse for him.”

Regina gave her a sharp look. “Do not absolve me. My choices were my own.”  


To her surprise, Blue gave her a smile. “They were. They were not choices you would have made under other circumstances, but they were your choices. And your insistence on taking responsibility for them does you credit, Your Majesty.”

“Regina,” she corrected softly. “Do you have any idea why you wouldn’t have heard me?”  


“Well, now,” Blue said thoughtfully, “I assume there was a reason the Dark One sought you out.”

Regina sighed. “Mother promised him her first-born in exchange for teaching her how to spin straw to gold. Except it turns out I’m not her first-born at all.”

Blue shook her head. “She was lucky. He could have killed her for that deception.”  


“Maybe he didn’t …” Regina trailed off, a letter coming to the forefront of her memory.

_Cora dear - I finally got my hands on your first-born._

“Never mind,” Regina sighed. “He knew.”  


“He was rather fond of her,” Blue said. “I don’t … I hate to even suggest it, Regina, but they were very close at one point …”  


“He’s not my father,” Regina said immediately. “When I realised his history with Mother, I considered it. But any magic altering my appearance would have disappeared when I got to Storybrooke, and I am almost the spitting image of my paternal great-grandmother.”

“Queen Ariana,” Blue said, nodding. “So you are.”  


“Yes, our family tree is bizarre,” Regina said, “but thankfully that’s not part of it.”

Blue chuckled. “In any case, it’s possible that he put some kind of magic around you to hide you from us, so we didn’t get in the way.” She picked up her tea once more. “So we have no idea what Zelena wants?”

“No,” Regina said. “Just that she wants to destroy my happiness and take everything from me. She was mentored by Rumple for a while and she’s mad that he got me to cast the curse and not her.”

Blue sighed. “She sounds …”  


“She sounds like me,” Regina admitted. “At my worst. That’s why I haven’t bothered trying to reason with her. When you’re that focused on vengeance, there’s nothing anyone can say to break through to you. But I thought you wanted to speak about me, not Zelena.”  


“And that stemmed from the fact that I thought you turned to the Dark One as a first resort,” Blue said calmly, “not a last. I assume you wouldn’t protest if I added some protections of my own.”  


“Of course not,” Regina said. “I’m sure it would make Snow feel better. I assume you’ve just confirmed her suspicions.”  


Blue gave her a searching look over the rim of her teacup. “She told you?”  


“Snow and I have talked,” Regina said. “I finally told her everything that happened in this castle when she was a child. One of the things I will never forgive Rumple for … I loved her like my own daughter, and he convinced me that I didn’t, that I couldn’t, because I was my mother’s daughter.”

Blue was quiet for a few moments. “At least yours was an outside influence. I convinced myself that, as a fairy, I was incapable of love in that sense. That I had to be above that kind of emotion. And then I saw the child I created lying dead in Emma’s arms.”

“You are Pinocchio’s mother,” Regina said. “Giving birth doesn’t make you a mother.”

“Neither does creation,” Blue said with a sigh. “And yet I realised then that I loved him all the same. I should have realised when Geppetto begged me for a way to allow him to escape and I agreed to lie about the properties of the wardrobe.”

Regina shook her head. “The things we do for our children.”

A thud from the entrance hall had them both on their feet, but as soon as they were outside the antechamber, the reason for the noise became obvious - the castle doors had swung open and hit the walls.

Seeing the ‘intruders’, Regina relaxed, raising an eyebrow. “What on earth are you doing?”  


“In our defence,” Robin said, hefting one end of a fir tree, “Her Royal Highness requested them. I’ve got no idea, but I know better than to argue with a lady.”

“It is nearly Christmas,” Blue said.

“We don’t celebrate Christmas in the Enchanted Forest,” Regina said. “Although it doesn’t surprise me that Snow wants to.”  


“What’s Christmas?” John asked.

“Basically Yule,” Regina answered. “But it got taken over by one of their religions and the traditions got all mixed up.”  


“That’s not true,” Blue said.

“The shepherds were watching the lambs,” Regina said. “They should celebrate in the spring. But all cultures celebrate some kind of midwinter feast, so it was easier to just drop it on top of them.”

“So what are we doing with the trees?” Robin asked blankly. “The princess asked for three of them.”  


“Well, I’d imagine she wants one in the dining hall,” Regina said. “Other than that …”

She trailed off, her gaze falling on Robin’s right arm, bracing against the fir tree, his sleeves rolled up, presumably to compensate for exertion.

There, in black ink, mocking her with its clarity, was a tattoo of a lion rampart.


	10. January

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Tinkerbelle and Regina talk about soul-mates. Regina worries about her sister. Robin makes a confession. Things are never that simple.

Regina ended up boycotting Christmas.

Of course, she humoured Roland when he came to her, willingly told him stories about Christmas in Storybrooke and with Henry, but that was the extent of it.

And she avoided his father like the plague.

More than that, when she was forced to interact with him, her sharp tongue made a savage comeback, keeping him at bay with barbs and insults that made Snow look disappointed and left her feeling guilty even as the words left her.

A few days into the new year, Regina found herself face to face, not with Robin, but with Tinkerbelle.

“I knew you’d find me sooner or later.”

Tinkerbelle frowned. “You found him. And you still haven’t …”  


“Not here,” Regina hissed, glancing up and down the corridor. “Come on.”

A swirl of purple smoke took them to Regina’s bedchamber, and the queen closed the drapes with a flick of her hand.

“Honestly,” Tinkerbelle commented, lighting the candles, “anyone would think this is top secret.”  


“It is,” Regina said. “Please tell me you haven’t told him.”  


Tinkerbelle sighed. “No, Regina, I haven’t said a word. But I want to know why. I still don’t understand why you ran away all those years ago. You could have been happy.”  


“First of all, if I’d walked through that door, I wouldn’t have had Henry,” Regina said. “So I don’t regret that.”  


Tinkerbelle thought for a second. “Okay, I hadn’t seen it that way; that’s fair, I suppose.”  


“Second of all,” Regina took a seat in front of the fire, “you were wrong, about the king. He would never have let me go. He would have executed us both.”

For a second, Tinkerbelle looked as though she would protest, but then her shoulders slumped and she fell into the chair opposite her. “Seriously?”  


Regina nodded. “It wasn’t just discontent that led me to wish for a way out, Tink. I was miserable … I was broken … and … Rumple had convinced me that I wasn’t capable of love, not anymore.”

“Oh, Regina …” Tinkerbelle reached across to take her hand. “I’m sorry.”  


“I’m glad you showed me,” Regina admitted. “It was nice to know that there was someone out there, but … After everything I’ve done … you can’t still think we’re soul-mates, can you?”  


“Things like that don’t change,” Tinkerbelle said gently. “It’s not like true love, which can change forms over time - romantic can change to platonic, and vice versa, but it’s two souls that just … fit. Everything that they are.”

“But I’m a monster,” Regina whispered. “He’s a good man.”  


“You are _not_ a monster,” Tinkerbelle said firmly. “I won’t stand for anyone talking about you like that, not even you.”  


Regina was a little taken aback, but gave her a small smile. “Thank you. It doesn’t change things though.”  


“What things?” Tinkerbelle asked.

“Zelena,” Regina said simply. “She wants to take everything I have, to destroy my life. I cannot - will not - put him in the path of that.”

Tinkerbelle clearly did not agree with her reasoning, but agreed to keep their discovery a secret - however:

“You need to talk to him,” she said firmly. “You’ve been a bit of a …”  


“Bitch?” Regina finished.

“I wasn’t going to say that,” Tinkerbelle said. “Although now you mention it …”  


Regina rolled her eyes. “If he’s willing to talk to me again, I’ll speak to him.”

As it happened, Robin found her first, while she was holed up in the library, still trying to figure out a way to find out a) what her sister was up to and b) how to stop her from whatever that was.

He tapped on the open door as he entered to get her attention. “Your Majesty?”

Regina stiffened automatically, but forced herself to relax, closing her book and turning to face him. “Yes?”  


“I wanted to apologise.”

Regina blinked. “Pardon me?”

“Well, I’m not sure what I’ve done,” Robin admitted, “but I fear I’ve offended you in some way, so I felt I should apologise.”

“Oh.” Regina sighed. “You don’t owe me any apology, Robin; I owe you one. At the risk of sounding like an other-world cliché, it’s not you, it’s me.”

Robin hesitated, before taking the seat beside her. “I don’t understand. This wasn’t grief.”

Regina managed a small smile. “No, you’re right; it wasn’t. There was something that happened, but …” she hesitated.

“You don’t owe me an explanation,” Robin said hastily.

“I do,” Regina said. “Tinkerbelle’s right; I’ve acted like a complete bitch over the last month, and you did not deserve that. So, for the love of the gods, if I do that again, _don’t let me_. Tell me where to shove it.” She realised belatedly that the phrase was from the other realm. “Tell me to cut it out.”

Robin smirked. “Are you sure you want me to do that?”  


“Yes,” Regina said firmly.

Robin nodded. “As you wish. So what happened?”  


“I can’t tell you,” Regina said quietly. “Not yet. I will, but when I’ve dealt with Zelena.”

“You can trust me,” Robin reminded her.

“I know,” Regina said immediately - because she did know, however much that scared her. “I’m not hesitant to tell you because I don’t trust you with the information …”

Although she doubted he would want to hear it, if he knew what it was - whoever wanted to hear that fate had bound them to someone like her?

“… but because it’s something that could put you in danger if you know it.”

Of course, there was no guarantees that Zelena didn’t already know - from their conversation, it sounded like Zelena had been watching her. 

But, no, Zelena hadn’t made a move against him yet.

“Milady?”

Regina shook her head. “Sorry. I was miles away.”

“You worry too much,” Robin said - rather boldly, considering her attitude over the last few weeks.

Regina frowned. “My sister is trying to destroy everything. I think that’s a reason to worry.”  


“Of course,” Robin said. “That doesn’t mean that you personally are responsible for everything she does, and it doesn’t mean that you personally are solely responsible for the safety of everyone in this castle.”

Regina sighed. “In this case, I am. I will tell you when Zelena is dealt with. If you even want to know.”  


“I do,” Robin said. “I don’t think you owe me an explanation, but I would like one.”

“You might not feel that way when you get it,” Regina muttered. “Out of interest,” she said, before he could argue, “what was it that you thought you’d done?”  


To her surprise, Robin didn’t answer immediately, dropping his gaze. “Maybe I should tell you when Zelena’s dealt with as well.”

Regina smiled. “Because the answer could put me at risk or because you want me to get a taste of my own medicine?”

Robin grinned at her. “The latter. Is it working?”  


Regina laughed, painfully aware of the one thing she had been avoiding since that December afternoon - that _this_ was what a soul-mate felt like, that she had known on some level since the moment they met, and that now she knew what it was like to have him in her life, she wasn’t strong enough to lose him, even if it put him in danger.

“Not at all,” she said. “I can wait.”

But, once again, Robin surprised her, his humour evaporating with a sigh. “No, I probably should tell you. I had assumed that you had … noticed something that I was hoping I was doing a better job of hiding and that you had taken offence.”

Regina frowned, thinking back over the last few months. “Well, I can’t think of what that would be. So either I haven’t noticed, or it’s nothing for me to take offence to.”

Robin got to his feet in order to pace the floor, and Regina rose as well, concern stabbing at her heart.

“What is it?” She asked quietly. “I promise I won’t throw you in the stocks,” she added, trying to get a laugh out of him.

It didn’t, but he did at least smile, his eyes wandering to her curves as she took the opportunity to stretch her back out.

“Wait,” she said suddenly. “Is that you find me attractive? Because if it is, I hate to break it to you, but you _really_ don’t hide that.”  


That, thankfully, did get a laugh, although one that sounded a little bitter. “Of course I find you attractive, milady. I am neither blind nor dead, and I would have to be one or both of those _not_ to find you attractive.” He sighed. “No, I’m afraid that my … affections for you are not nearly so innocuous. I find myself drawn to you in a way that I haven’t been to anyone in a … very long time.”

Regina faltered - she should push him away, but then she’d already told him not to let her do that. “And you thought that would offend me?” She asked, trying to buy herself some time to figure out how to react.

“Your Majesty …”  


“Regina,” she said automatically. “You know me better than most people; I think we’re on first-name terms by now.”

“Regina,” Robin said quietly, “you are still the queen. And I am a common thief.”  


Regina frowned. “First of all, if you were making unwanted advances, it might offend me, but you’re not. And second of all, you are _not_ a common thief.”  


“Yes, I am,” Robin said. “As you well know. Coming from noble stock does not change that.”

Regina rolled her eyes. “That’s not what I meant. A thief, yes, but hardly a common one. You would have been hanged long before now if that were the case.” She sighed. “I’m not offended. But - we are friends, are we not?”  


“I like to think so,” Robin said. “And I can assure you that I had no intentions of …”  


“As your friend,” Regina interrupted, taking a step towards him, “I feel there is something you haven’t considered.”  


Robin frowned. “What’s that?”

Regina gave him a sad smile. “You, Robin of Locksley, are a good man. And, as such, you can do far better than me.”

Her magic took her away before he could respond.

It was for the best.


End file.
